


Fighting Our Demons

by AnRkey_o2



Series: Scars From The Ground [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Clexa, Commander Lexa, Death, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grounder Culture, Guns, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Politics, Romance, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnRkey_o2/pseuds/AnRkey_o2
Summary: Clarke has survived against all odds. She has rescued not only her friends, but Lexa's people... but at what cost. Now she must come to terms with the monster she has become.Legend has spread about Klark Kom Skaikru, the Mountain Slayer, Wanheda, and when people start to report sightings, Clarke finds herself in danger, hunted once again by Grounders.But the one person she can turn to for anything is having troubles herself. Can Clarke and Lexa find a way through a civil war, or will this fight be their last?





	1. Come Back To Me, Klark

**Author's Note:**

> I tried writing this twice before i found a plot-line that i actually liked. If you are reading my work for the first time then i suggest you read "For Your People, And Mine" first, but you do you.
> 
> Don't forget to leave your comments and kudos for me, i always appreciate them.

_**Clarke Griffin**_  
Fire. White-hot, searing pain licking across my back. The acrid smell of burnt leather and molten metal filled my nose. When I tried to breathe, all I got was smoke and dust. Screams pierced my skull, each individual voice distinguishable among the overall chorus of agony.

I stood atop a mountain of burning bodies; my sword in one hand and a gun in the other. Drops of blood fell from the tip of my sword, sizzling as they hit the fire. Children cried, mother's begged, soldiers vowed revenge...

I tried to apologise, I tried to move, I tried to do anything to stop the endless torture... but it continued relentlessly. The fire burned until it had consumed me, until I was screaming along with my victims, and then it burned some more.

Beyond the flames, safe and whole, were those I saved. They looked at me as though I were a monster, and they were right. I was forced to watch as they shook their heads in disgust or disappointment before turning their backs on me and walking away. Soon it's just Lexa, the stoic mask of the Commander firmly in place.

I search for the woman beneath the mask. The girl I fell in love with. The person who would surely understand exactly what I am going through and stand by me even when no one else would... But she wasn't there, there was no hidden smile, no micro-expressions to show me the real Lexa. And then she turned away too, leaving me all alone atop a mountain of burning flesh.

 

I woke with a start, bolting upright and fumbling for a dagger that wasn't there. After the moment of panic came the wave of excruciating pain. The fire from my dream seemed real, the flames still licking across my arms and back. My left arm was hanging at an odd angle, the shoulder dislocated from what I could tell through the ache. And to top it off there was a length of metal, about an inch in diameter, skewering my right calf, straight through the reinforced leather of my boot.

A woman, blonde and lithe, came into the room, a large bowl of water cradled in her arms and I froze in my examination. She paused for a second too before hurrying over to me, leaving the bowl on a small table.

That's when I realized I was on a bed, with a wrought iron frame and piles of furs. And this bed was in a room, cluttered with bits and pieces; everything from flowing dresses to old car doors. Sunlight, soft and pale, floated through a window above me and the smell of cooking meat wafted through the air.

The woman came up beside me, smiling gently and showing me her palms as if afraid of scaring me.  
“Yu ste klir.” She told me, _You are safe_. I had no reason to fear this woman, but I also had no reason to trust her. I reached for my daggers, regretting the movement as my back flared with pain, scabs splitting open. But both weapons were gone, as was my belt, my armoured coat, my leather breastplate and my shirt, leaving me in just my bra. I had a feeling that I would have been divested of my boots and pants had there not been a metal pole in the way.

Her delicate hand, cold on my burnt skin, was laid gently on my uninjured shoulder, silently pleading me not to move.  
“Chon yu bilaik?” I croaked, my throat raw, _Who are you?_.  
“Niylah,” The woman supplied, picking up a metal cup filled with an aromatic tea. She raised it to my lips, “Drink.” she commanded softly. And I did. Even I had to admit I was in no state to argue, I couldn't move let alone fight someone off.  
You speak English?” I asked once I had drained the cup, “Or rather, how did you know that I spoke English?”

She smiled and remained silent as she refilled the cup from a nearby steaming pot. I waited with an uncharacteristic amount of patience, as she put the cup down beside the bowl of water and turned back to me.  
“Yes, I speak English, my brother was a warrior and would teach me at night.” I hissed as she put one hand on my dislocated shoulder and the other took a firm grasp on my arm. She caught my eyes, “Breathe...” she instructed. I knew the drill, I knew that as soon as I started to take in some air she was going to pop my arm back into the socket, but that didn't stop me from swearing through my teeth when she did.

“As for how I knew you spoke English... It's in your accent. Not many people learn our language, but when they do, I can tell.” I was breathing heavily, trying not to choke on the air as it rasped down my throat, the small movements tearing at my back. I didn't know what was worse, the pain in my leg or the burns on my back.

Niylah seemed to be asking herself the same thing as she glanced clinically over my body. Finally, she seemed to decide my leg was the more pressing matter, moving down to the end of the bed. When she passed me the second sup of tea I raised my brow at her, obediently draining the cup.  
“What is that anyway?” I asked, handing her back the empty cup.  
“A mix of willow bark, turmeric and cloves, a little lemon to mask the bitterness. It's a family remedy for pain and inflammation.”

She handed me a leather strap once she had replaced the cup on the table.  
“Bite down on that, this is going to hurt.” I watched as she carefully wrapped a piece of cloth around the blackened end of the pole. The leather was between my teeth when she put both hands on the metal and glanced at me with a reassuring smile. Niylah pinned my leg down at the thigh with one knee, released a deep breath, and then pulled.

For one agonising second, it didn't move, then it slipped and a moment later she had jerked it free. I screamed through the leather, glad it was there to bite into as the pain surged up my leg and into my body. My back arched and I fell back as white lights danced in my eyes. I must have passed out for a second and when I came to, breathing hard, Niylah was hovering over me, her fingers resting on my pulse.

I was so lost in the inferno running across my bare back that I barely noticed her pulling my boots and leather pants off of my legs. My body was burning but I felt so cold, my mind couldn't handle the conflicting feelings and all I knew was that I needed to get off my back.

Gasping for breath, I attempted to roll myself over, crying out as muscles tensed and wounds opened. I could hear Niylah muttering at the base of the bed, too consumed with her own train of thought to even realise what I was doing. My left arm was still weak, collapsing beneath my weight as I tried to leverage myself.

Cool hands slipped around my waist then, gently turning me the rest of the way, my head turned to the side so that I could still see her. Niylah was staring at me, the metal pole that had been impaling me had been abandoned by my head, completely coated in my black blood. She seemed shocked and confused, but my hazy mind couldn't figure out why, so I focused on breathing.

“You-” the woman whispered after a few long minutes of laboured breathing on my part, “You're a _Natblida._ ” She stared at me wide-eyed, as though it shouldn't be possible, and to be fair, it shouldn't, but I didn't have the energy to explain. It was already getting much too difficult to keep my eyes open. “I thought the black was from the fire, but it's your blood... how?”

I laughed on a huff of breath that ended in a cough, fighting through the pain.  
“I wish I knew...” was all I managed before the burning grew to be too much and I surrendered to the sweet black of unconsciousness.

 

A week. That's how long it took for my body to heal properly. It didn't help that I was so obviously malnourished, that I was sleep deprived and all around exhausted. Niylah had said it took two days for me to even be able to stay awake, and it had been another after that before I could walk again. The burns on my back took the longest, pain was my constant companion whenever I moved, the scars that were left behind feeling too tight and unyielding.

Still, after a week I was able to stretch, and run, and even swing my sword. My shoulder was still playing up though, it didn't feel right, like it would pop out of it's socket if it was pushed too far. I didn't want to admit it, but my body was forever changed and I would have to relearn everything if I was going to continue surviving.

The nights were the worst though.

Every dream was a nightmare filled with fire. Closing my eyes meant I would be sent back to the mountain, forced to watch innocent people burning, forced to listen to the screams of children. I felt hot blood spill over my fingers. I heard the harsh crack of a gun as it unleashed a bullet. I watched as my beautiful sword sank into person after person, the metal dancing joyously in the light.

I couldn't escape. Niylah would wake me countless time during the night, sooth me when I cried and screamed. I had told her the story, each time, and she listened to the horrors without complaint. I knew that I didn't deserve what she was giving me, comfort and reasurance... safety. But I was too weak to fight it.

 

 

 _ **Lexa**_  
The throne room was empty but for me and Titus. He was offering me yet more _wisdom_ on the matter of the Skaikru and their missing leader.  
“Heda, these people are outsiders, as you are well aware.” He crooned for the hundredth time, “Clarke proved herself worthy of being accepted among our ranks, but she was one woman. These new Skaikru do not even recognize her as their leader.”  
“It was not just Clarke that aided in the rescue of our people, Titus.” I reminded him tightly.

As much as I argued and tried to defend Clarke's people, I knew my teacher was right. There were a few; Octavia, Raven, Bellamy, and even that Monty kid, who were doing well. They did not argue with my people, they tried to follow Clarke's example even as they mourned her loss. But in the last week, a growing number of the new Skaikru members had become hostile.

“I know that, Lexa. And I have agreed that those who were instrumental be accommodated,” The bald advisor's voice was becoming increasingly irritating, “but those who would spur our generous offer should be punished according to our laws. What they are doing is treason, and as such they should either be executed or banished from our lands.”

I sat down in my throne, playing with my knife as I tried to think of the best way to delay the inevitable. Skaikru were simply afraid. They had been thrust into this new world and the only person that would have been capable of guiding them into it was... missing.  
“When Clarke returns-” I started, avoiding eye contact even as Titus cut me off.  
“ _If_ Clarke returns, and after a week, that is a very big _if_.”

I closed my eye's slowly, an image of Clarke as I had last seen her coming freely to my mind. Titus wanted me to accept that she had died in the explosion. Indra had reported that she had not made it out of the mountain before it blew up. Octavia and Bellamy had collected a team of volunteers and dug through the rubble for three days. All they had found was the coat I had given Clarke the day of the battle, the back and shoulders completely burnt away.

But they did not know Clarke the way I knew her. They did not understand that she would never give up, that she could survive anything, that she was too strong and too stubborn to die. And I just knew. There is no way to explain it, but I just know that she still lives. She will return to me.

“You must show your strength, Lexa. Acting now, acting decisively, will quiet the talk among the clan leaders.” Titus pushed, walking up the platform steps so that he was at my level.

I had come to know this nearly unconscious power-play that he often used, and I was getting tired of it. This man was supposed to be my most loyal servant, an advisor that I could always trust. But lately he had been acting more and more like I was a piece in some game. If he thought that I was some puppet for him to direct, he was sorely mistaken.

“Must I remind you once again of your place, Fleimkepa.” I growled, getting to my feet with the predatory grace of a skilled killer. “The clan leaders may talk all they like of any weakness they feel I have, they may challenge me, they will fail. I have no weakness, Titus, and I will not be questioned.” I walked toward the balcony, letting the wind weave through my hair. “Skaikru is still welcome here in Polis. Our people will continue to aid in the salvage of their ship and the expansion of their old camp. You are dismissed.”

I looked over my city, out over the trees, to the place where Mt Weather had once stood. I heard the doors open and close as I watched the horizon, breathing a sigh of relief when I was finally alone. The empty cavity that had once held my heart ached as I conjured the image of Clarke once again.  
“Come back to me, Klark.” I whispered, as a tear rolled down my cheek. “My SkaiPrisa...”

 

 

 _ **Clarke Griffin**_  
“What are you doing?” I tensed when I heard her, my hand frozen around the grip of my sword. I had spent ten quick minutes packing a make-shift backpack and was about to buckle on my belt. Now I turned guiltily toward Niylah who stood in the doorway of her back room, her arms crossed over her chest, an amused smirk in place. I blushed despite myself as I continued with my sword and belt.

“I need to move, to do something.” I explained, fumbling with the metal buckle.  
“So go fishing, chop wood, draw your pictures. There is much you can do that doesn't require you to run away.”

That stunned me and I stopped trying to buckle my belt to look up at her. She was right, I was running. I didn't want to sit in one place because I didn't want to have to think about everything I had done. But I also couldn't stay here, I shouldn't be running, but I also couldn't stand hiding.

“There are things I need to do, Niylah.” I explained as best I could. “I'm not just one of the Skaikru... I was their leader. I made promises, and I should at least try to keep them.”  
“A warrior who suffers a broken bone, can heal in a matter of weeks.” She sighed, walking into the room and taking my belt buckle into her hands. “But a warrior who suffers a broken mind, may never recover.” She gave me that gentle smile I had come to know her for, securing my belt and stepping back. “Your wounds have healed, Clarke, but you still suffer. Until you can find peace with yourself, you will not be any good to your people.”

“You needn't worry, Niylah.” I reassured her with a half smile. “I have been through much worse.” She looked as though she wanted to say something more, but decided against it, instead going over to a pile of folded clothing. I watched as she started picking out items, sitting down on a wooden chair by her table.

When she came back she was holding a couple sets of clothes. I looked through them; a new pair of leather pants, a dark brown in color; a pair of black leggings; three tops, one with long sleeves; and a thick coat with a fur collar and hood. All my armor had been destroyed, apart from my vanguards, but so had my clothes. I quickly changed into the new clothes, tucking the spare shirts and leather pants into my pack before sitting down to pull my boots on.

“The winter season will be upon us soon, the change is quick and brutal. You need to stay as warm as possible when that happens.” the blonde said as she opened an old cabinet and pulled out a leather woman's chest plate. She pulled me to my feet and started strapping it into place. “It is nowhere near as good as the one you had, and it doesn't fit you properly, but maybe it will save your life.”

She was right. The leather was old and scuffed, and it only covered my front, but I felt a little more myself once Niylah tightened the straps.

And so, as the sun rose on my eighth day, I walked away from Niylah's little trading post full of all the wonders of the world, many destinations in mind, but only one I could face...

 


	2. Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright sorry for the delay, but there has been a 'killer' flu going around and i could barely open my eyes let alone focus on a computer screen.  
> But I'm on the mend, decided to pump this out to you today. I know this is seeming a little slow-burn, but i promise there will be action, a lot of action, and i will have Clarke and Lexa back together soon.  
> Anyway, enjoy.

_**Clarke Griffin** _

The sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky in hues of gold, pink and violet. The air was still chilled and brisk from the night, the smell of morning dew permeating the gentle breeze. I crouched stiffly among a group of thorny bushes, breathing slowly so that the jungle cat prowling the clearing didn't notice me.

When I had woken before the sun with the intent of hunting, I did not expect to find myself pinned down by some kind of mountain lion/pantha hybrid. All I had wanted was a rabbit, this little flash of brown that streaked across my path. But the rabbit had led me into the path of an injured doe. I had followed the doe, waiting for it to pause so that I could attack, when a jet black smear had shot out of a tree and torn it's neck out.

I couldn't make a run for it, that would only lead to a foot race I had no hope of winning. So instead, here I crouched, hoping beyond hope that this rather majestic looking predator didn't catch my scent. The beast was on it's fourth circle and I knew it was searching for something, the dead doe lain out like bait in the center of the clearing.

My leg cramped, the muscle in my calf still too tight, and I shifted the smallest fraction to help relieve the pressure. But my toe landed on a dry branch and the 'crack' that echoed through the entire forest may as well have been deafening. The jungle cat certainly thought so, it's head snapping around and it's golden eyes locking onto mine.

I sighed as I pushed myself into a more battle ready position, drawing my sword and right hand dagger, no use in letting this thing take me out without one hell of a fight...

It may seem crazy, but I could swear the cat was smirking at me, like one of those evil cartoon villain's that's having a really good time taunting their victim. He started circling wide, coming at my right, so I carefully stepped from the bushes, keeping the distance between us. It's growl seemed to vibrate through my whole body, twisting my stomach into a nervous knot. Long, sharp teeth snapped at me, causing me to stumble a step.

And that was all the opening the beast needed. He leaped over the middle of the clearing and crashed straight into my chest. I had just enough presence of mind to bring both blades up in a protective cross before we went tumbling into the ground. The sound of teeth and flesh against my sword and dagger was sickening, but at least it meant my throat was still attached to my body.

We struggled for a moment, the persistent predator unwilling to give up on his prey. Then I managed to maneuver my left foot onto a solid part of the cats underside and I pushed him up and off. He only went skidding a few feet away, but it was enough room for me to roll to my feet.

But now, my new friend seemed to be a little bit angrier then before. His golden eyes narrowed and he hissed before shooting forward and latching onto my left thigh. I cried out and instinctively brought my fist down, the handle of my sword cracking dully against the cats skull.

It backed off as I dropped to one knee. But the reprieve didn't last, spinning around it jumped, knocking into my left shoulder with a very intentional swipe of it's claws. Searing pain blazed down my arm and my sword dropped from my hand. Tears filled my eyes even as I fought them off.  
“I hate cat's.” I muttered furiously as another growl came from behind me and I forced myself back to my feet, cradling my injured arm. I faced the mutant jungle cat and sneered, “If there were pets on the Ark, I would have had a dog.”

Logically, I was aware this would mean nothing to a wild forest creature, but it made me feel better.

But it was just as the small smile reached my lips that the beast attacked again. This time it's jaw did latch onto my neck, drawing a strangled scream from me as I tried to tear it away. But the cat wasn't trying to pull away either, wasn't trying to rip my throat out. He was still growling, his paws and their claws cutting through cloth and skin alike as he moved, but he seemed incapable of getting away. That was when I felt the hot blood spilling over my right hand.

The damn cat had landed right on my dagger. Right now, it was a battle to see who would bleed out faster and I was not going to let it be me. With every bit of strength I had, I pulled the dagger free and plunged it back in. The cat mewled in pain, so I did it again, aiming a little higher and steepening the angle.

His jaw slackened just enough for me to get both arms under him and throw him off me. I lay there beside the slowly dying feline, trying desperately to catch my breath enough to get to my feet. Reaching over I touched the cats head.  
“Yu gonplei ste odon.” I whispered. I hated having to deliver the phrase, but I loved what it meant.

Once I was standing I risked the ten minute walk to where I had stashed my supplies. I needed some bandages, especially for the bites, they were pretty deep. And then, when I was sure I wouldn't also bleed out, I cleaned both kills and loaded them on a tray to drag behind me.

 

I was thankful that it only took me two hours to reach my destination, The waterfall was just as I remembered it when Lexa had first shown it to me. The water flowed off the small cliff, hitting the rocks below and forming a shallow pool that flowed off to meet the main river somewhere else in the forest. The clearing around the falls was big enough that the morning sun could land right on the water.

But the best part was that behind the cascading water was a hidden cave, pretty large considering it went nowhere and did nothing. The marble was soaked in radiation and as such had taken on this light purple tone, dark blue veins running through it. And, the last time I was here, I had turned it into my own personal art gallery, complete with a memorial for the 102 of us that had landed on the ground.

I pulled my haul along, welcoming the cool water that hit my shoulders for one brief moment before I emerged into the cave. It was still early enough that natural light easily filled the space and the air was sucked from my lungs as I looked around.

Everywhere I looked, there was Lexa. Beautiful, strong, intimidating, glorious Lexa. The pressure behind my eyes was hard to fight as I looked over each image. I missed her so much, in this week and a half that seemed like eternity. When I had drawn these, she had been laying on the floor by the fire, so warm and close, so new, but she'd also felt... permanent.

So much had changed in such a short amount of time. I sighed, dropping my kill beside the fire pit and moving to the back of the cave. This wall was entirely devoted to my people. I hadn't known everyone's names at the time, but a conversation with Octavia and Raven had helped me clear that up. But there were also a lot more faces to draw a star through...

I sighed and wiped at my eye's with my palms. There would be time for tears later; right now I had to build a fire, clean myself up and eat something.

 

 

_**Abby Griffin** _

I had woken up in this room a week ago. Marcus had been sitting on the lounge, reading a book, and everything was just so domestic that I couldn't cope. It didn't help that I was almost delirious with pain or that no one could tell me where Clarke was. I was faintly aware of Marcus talking into his walkie and a few minutes later Jackson was there sedating me and telling me that my daughter was strong and they were sure everything was going to be just fine.

 

Two days later Bellamy Blake was at my bedside, dark circles under his eyes. He said they had dug as far as they could, looked all around for any sign of her, but she just wasn't there. I listened to Blake tell me about Clarkes last few months. My heart swelled with pride as he described how much of a hero she had become. But I always knew she had it in her, she was always trying to help everyone... even at the expense of her own life.

Jackson wanted to sedate me again, but I waved him off, I was badly injured, my entire family was gone, but if I didn't start living again, today, then I never would. We soaked my burnt body in a cool bath and then one of the grounder girls offered to rub oils in. She said she had worked for Clarke and would be honored to help her mother.

Marcus, Sinclair and Raven, all came in after that, filling me in on what had happened since Ark station had fallen to the ground. I only half listened, concerned only that people were getting food, shelter and medical aid. Marcus was very worried about a group led by Pike who were becoming very hostile toward our hosts, they were causing talk of banishment for the Commanders lands. But I knew he would find a way to deal with them.

As they were about to leave, I pulled Raven aside.  
“What's up, doc?” She asked, much more gently than I'd come to know her to be.  
“They say that Mount Weather exploded,” I began, sitting carefully and folding my hands in my lap, “But how, and why would Clarke set it off while she was still- still inside.”  
“Shit, well... Abby, me telling you this won't explain why she died, you know that right?” I bit my lip but nodded in understanding. “Okay then. Monty was the one to help her set it up, but from what he said, they rigged the top most missile to blow while it was still in the silo. That one set off the next one and the next one and, well you get the picture.” Raven sighed, looking at the ceiling while she blinked away tears.  
“As for why Clarke was still inside, I can only guess that she was being Clarke.” She laughed through a sob, “That woman was small, and stubborn, and messed up in a lot of ways, doc. But she was also brave and loyal, and would go out of her way if it meant even the chance of saving someone.”

I broke down then, the tears that had been threatening all day, falling freely now. Raven, though somewhat awkwardly, pulled me into her shoulder and we cried together. Neither of us liked to show our weakness to the world, so I think it was the best way for us to mourn my little girl...

 

“We owe these people nothing!” Charles Pike called out from the top of a long wooden table in the dining hall, “We did not ask that they take us in, we did not ask to be a part of their savage civilization. And yet day in and day out we are bossed around as though we are their servants! Well I have had enough! I don't need these primitive savages to tell me how to survive. I don't need their food or their clothes. I say we pack up and leave tonight. Our kids built a solid foundation for us to work from and that's where I'll be!”

“And what,” I shouted from the doorway, sick of Pike always riling everyone up, “exactly do you plan to do when the change of season comes in a few days time and you can't grow anything?” He didn't have an answer so I directed my next question at the room.  
“What about when it gets so cold the ground freezes and there aren't enough blankets? Or maybe a bear attacks and our guns malfunction?” There was a low murmuring through the room as I pushed through the people, coming to stand by Marcus who was already at Pike's table.  
“Our kids landed at the very end of the cold season, things weren't as dire for them as they will be for us if we break off now. Whether you like it or not, our best chance for survival lies with the Grounders.”

All the energy drained from me as I finished speaking, Clarke floating to the front of my mind yet again. I leaned subtly into Marcus and his arm wrapped around my waist.  
“The work crew from the Ark will return today so I suggest the next team be ready to leave. Everyone else, eat and return to your assigned duties for now.” Kane called out in his authoritative voice, “And Charles, come up to Abby's room in an hour, we need to talk.”

Marcus then tightened his hold on my waist and gently guided me to an empty table. He sat me down and poured me a cup of water, pressing it into my hands. I was so thankful for his strength right now. I was still so weak from the landing, and I missed... I missed my baby. I took a small sip of my water before I could start crying and looked up into Marcus' eyes.

“The kids, Raven and the Blake's, they said Clarke led them nearly the entire time they were down here.” He poured himself a cup of water and nodded as he took a long drink.  
“I believe it, I even saw her in action.” Marcus replied with the smallest grin, almost prideful.  
“I don't know how she did it...”  
“I guess some people are just born for it.”

We were both quiet for a few minutes as we watched our people move about. Then a thought struck me and my hand shot out to grip Marcus'. He looked at me questioningly as I stared at him wide eyed.  
“Clarke had the chip.” I whispered, unable to believe that I had forgotten. Marcus was confused.  
“The chip?” He asked. Then his eyes widened in recognition, “Wait, the _chip_? But why, Abby?” I swallowed hard, rubbing my temple.  
“Jaha ordered it.” I answered, “And Clarke was the only compatible candidate. But that's not the point.” strength was slowly returning to my voice. “She had the chip, Marcus. With what it would give her, she could have survived.”

 

 

_**Clarke Griffin** _

I sighed as I threw my torn up leggings and shirt to the side of the cave. I was finally clean and properly bandaged, but my clothes weren't as easy to mend as my skin. I pulled on my leather pants and winced as I slipped on a long-sleeved shirt, my shoulder pulling uncomfortably.

The fire had been going for over an hour now, the smell of roasting meat slowly filling the cave. I added another thick branch and poked at the flames until they caught, then I dug out one of the burnt up pieces, now no more than charcoal. But that was exactly what I was after. I almost smiled as I juggled the cooling black lump between my hands.

The stone was cool beneath my bare feet as I padded toward the back of the cave. For a minute, all I could do was stare. I had only seen the faces of the survivors on a surveillance screen, but thanks to the _Spirit_ implanted in my neck, my memory was pretty perfect. I started by adding the names below the few portraits I had missed, being careful to match the script perfectly. Then I started drawing shooting stars through those that had died.

It was a long and depressing process, in the end only 46 of us had made it out of that mountain. After everything I had done, I had only managed to save forty-five of my people. But, I reminded myself halfheartedly, you made sure hundreds of grounders got out, that counts for something right?

I stepped back and surveyed my work. Had I really saved people if I just replaced one set of lives with another? It would have been horrible for me, but wouldn't just as many people have survived if I had stayed out of it? But would that mean that I would be watching the bodies of my people burning each night?

All I had ever set out to do was save people, find a way to have peace, a way for us all to survive together. And I had been so close. I had been so close to happy. But as usual, I had messed things up in the end. No matter how hard I tried, the end result was always death and destruction. I was the monster who stood triumphantly atop a mountain of bodies. I deserved to be out here alone, where I couldn't harm anybody else. But most of all, my people deserved to be far away from my poisonous leadership.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, picking up the meat that had been cooking while I worked and inspecting it. Satisfied that it was cooked through I went over to another wall, tearing away chunks of meat as I inspected my work. Finding a foot of space I set to work drawing the battlefield outside the mountain, as it had looked from the side.

When the stump of charcoal was too hard to work with I swapped it out for another, tending the fire as I went. The sun slowly sank and I collected some sap covered branches to prop up around the cave as torches.

There was really no point to creating such a collage, but it felt right none-the-less. I put in some scenes from the mountain, the image of the tired old President, Lexa as we'd said goodbye... Sometimes I cried, other times I became angry, it was my way of working through it all. It was the middle of the night when Niylah's words hit me, I had to heal my mind so that I could function again.

There was a clear space that was much too high for me to reach so I went out with my tray. It took about an hour of searching and then another hour of hard labor, but eventually I had found four reasonably flat rocks that were the same size and had stacked them in piles of two next to the wall. I don't think I had ever been more grateful for my slightly enhanced strength then I did at that moment.

The picture I drew was the most haunting I have ever seen. A powerful figure standing atop a mountain of burning flesh. A sword dripping with blood in one hand and a smoking pistol in the other, staring into the distance with a grim expression. Those on the ground looked up at her with fear and disdain.

With trembling fingers I drew in the shape of Lexa, surrounded by her people, her face turned down as she refused to look at the monster I had become.

I had enough presence of mind to carefully climb down from my platform before curling into a tight ball and sobbing uncontrollably. That's what it all came down to. I wasn't so much afraid that my people would hate me for my crimes. I was scared that Lexa wouldn't be able to look at me the same, that she wouldn't love me anymore, knowing what I was capable of.

And this I couldn't blame on a _Spirit_ , a killer A.I that wanted to control me. This had been all me.

 

 

_**Lexa** _

I had taken to climbing to the roof of the tower late at night, not the safest of hobbies, but perhaps that was the point. That is where I was now, staring out over my city as I twirled my knife through my fingers. It was probably going to be one of the last clear nights of the year, and the stars were out in all their glory.

If Clarke could see it, she would immediately work to commit it to memory, to remember every beautiful detail so that when she drew it, it would take her right back to this moment. A tear rolled down my cheek and I let it fall. The loneliness I felt every day was so deep. The chill that wrapped my limbs would seep into my muscles and leave me numb.

All I wanted was to see her face, that smile, those eyes. I wanted to share her warmth as she put her arms around me and whispered into my ear, promising we could make each other stronger.

But if she had survived, why would it take her this long to get back to me, to come home. I didn't want to think her dead, but if she were alive and well... it may just break my heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, don't forget to leave comments and kudos, i love reading your opinions.


	3. I Challenge You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever and for that i am very sorry. See, i know what i want to happen, but making it come out in a way that I'm actually happy with has been really hard lately.  
> Still, i hope it's at least close to my usual standard, especially at the end there.

_**Lexa** _

I ran my fingers over the soft leather of my sofa cushion, thoughts of Clarke flitting through my mind, like wisps of smoke that I could not quite grasp. At times it seemed as though she had never even existed, as though my memories were half remembered dreams and the legends that passed through the market-place like wildfire. I had always mused that my SkaiPrisa was more than this world could handle, that they would tell fantastical stories and create mythical legends to help explain her amazing feats.

I sighed with a gentle release of breath and started to twist another braid into my hair. Titus had called yet another Kongeda meeting, promising perfect attendance. I wanted nothing more than to stop playing Heda and run into the woods, search everywhere for Clarke, but my duty to my people came first. So if the Twelve clans were all going to gather in one place, then I would put aside my own wants and hear them out.

Normally, a meeting would not warrant my full war paint mask, but since losing Clarke... Well, I needed that reminder that I am strong, that I am confident, that I am Heda. Fully prepared, I clasped my hands behind my back and began pacing the floor in front of my door, forcing myself into the mindset of the Commander.

The doors to the throne room had been pulled closed behind the last of the coalition members some ten minutes prior when I finally pulled my door open and left my chambers, my blood red cape flowing behind me. My left hand rested over my sword hilt as my boots struck the stone floor, a blank stoic expression masking the whirlwind of emotions in my head and the space in my chest where my heart should rest. My guards nodded as I approached and then threw the doors open, a satisfying hush falling over those assembled as I walked briskly into the room.

I didn't meet anyone's eyes until I had climbed the platform, sweeping the ground with my cape as I sat in my throne. Then I lifted my eyes and stared into the eyes of each of my subjects, each in turn lowered their gaze in respectful submission, and placated, I waved at Titus to begin.

The balding man walked forward, gesturing with open arms to everyone in the room. There was a very familiar disapproving scowl on his face and it made me want to kick him. Instead I crossed my legs at the knee and pulled out my knife, twirling it absently in my fingers.  
“Heda, in the recent months the kongeda has seen some troubling times.” Titus said as he faced me, his shoulders and back purposefully straightened. “With the arrival of Skaikru, the innumerable deaths of our people, and the woman who has come to be known as Wanheda, your people are scattered and confused.”

I had snapped to attention at the mention of 'Wanheda' as Titus knew I would.  
“Speak true, Titus.” I growled, the knife now gripped tightly in my right palm. “Why do you speak of Clarke?” The man tried and failed to hide a smirk, instead turning to include the others in the room.  
“There have been sightings-” he started to say as he turned back to me. But before he could finish I had leapt from my seat, my dagger held loosely between three fingers as I pressed it to his throat.

The whole room held it's breath as I hissed out my next question.  
“Where?”  
“Heda,beja.” Titus squeaked as his blood beaded onto my knife, “Calm yourself.” I breathed deeply and looked to where the bald mans eyes kept flickering. I scoffed when I saw Nia, sitting calmly in her seat, smirking over at him. Had he really thought that the Ice Queen would be his ally in this fools errand of his?

I stepped back, planting my foot on his knee and pushing harshly. Titus sprawled back, two guards automatically rushing forward to take up his arms as I stalked back to my throne. I faced the room but did not sit.  
“You thought, Fleimkepa.” I asked in a deathly calm voice, “to play on my emotions and incite a coo?” The fool worked his jaw silently for a moment before twisting in the warriors arms, addressing Nia desperately.  
“You said that you needed proof that she was no longer fit for rule!” He screamed, his voice raising in pitch as he struggled, “You said you could not act until she showed her weakness! Her love for that whore is proof!”

My eye's flared when Titus called Clarke a whore, I saw red and reacted without thinking. My knife flew through the air and cracked against his skull before clattering to the floor. I was only a little disappointed that I hadn't aimed to kill, but he had been knocked out rather effectively by the bone handle none-the-less.  
“Put him in a cell.” I barked to my guards who immediately started dragging the man away.

The part that unsettled me the most, is that Titus had not been making things up, he would not risk it if he was after a genuine reaction. That meant that people had seen Clarke, or someone who looked enough like her to start rumors. And if that were the case then I needed to find her. But there were things that needed to be dealt with first.

I sat in my throne and crossed my knees, now less one knife, I rested my palms on the arms, clicking my nails on the polished wood. My head turned slowly until I was looking at Nia and I gave her the same deadly smirk she was shooting my way.  
“Nia, did you wish to bring something to my attention?”

The Azgeda Queen had long been my fiercest... rival. She was at least twenty five years older than me, which among our people was a pretty amazing feat. It was not just her deadly skill in battle, but also her unmatched mind, that had helped her survive long enough to see her son fully grown even as she maintained the crown.

She was blonde, not as rich a color as Clarke, but the much more common, white-washed color among those that lived in the colder parts of our lands. Her height was also widely known, towering above all women and most men even. And though she dressed in the thick grey furs of her people, and had the same raised scars in lue of tattoos on her face, her sword was where her vehement legend stemmed.

The blade was dyed an icy blue, and bore only one sharpened side. It was four feet long, the last foot of the blade a jagged serated edge and people said that if you were stabbed with it, you would die of the infecting cold long before the wound could take you.

She rose to her feet with the lazy grace of a self important feline and I waited with forced patience as she made her way to the center isle.  
“Heda,” She acknowledged with the smallest dip of her head, a crown of bones resting atop her mess of blonde hair. “I wished only to let you know that your Kongeda no longer believes you have our best interests, and _only_ _our_ interests, in mind when you are making decisions.” She drawled. I did not speak as I looked around the room. Some people were firmly on the queens side, others were nodding along in shame.

I smiled at Nia, motioning for her to continue.  
“Skaikru still plagues the streets of our fair city-”  
“My city.” I interrupted in a small, calm voice that still managed to echo around the room. The queen smiled up at me knowingly before continuing.  
“Your city, Heda. Our people want justice and yet they are forced to make _peace,”_ She spat this word with surprising venom, “with those that made that very notion impossible.”

I didn't let my confident smirk falter as I looked down at her.  
“There is a treaty with Skaikru, one they have yet to breach. I will not go back on my word to satisfy your blood lust, Nia.”  
“A treaty that was agreed upon with a leader that these people refuse to acknowledge, a leader who has not been heard of since our ill advised attempt on the mountain gates. Heda, we fear, I fear, that your... _personal_ feelings for Wanheda, have made you soft, unfit to lead.”

I uncrossed my legs, sitting up straight in my throne and meeting the eyes of my coalition members.  
“And you all feel this way?” No one spoke at first. Until a tall brute of a man rose to his feet, his eyes downcast.  
“Nou Heda, nou mou.” He grunted. And that was all it took for the echo to start. One by one the clan leaders rose to their feet and repeated the phrase.

Anger, fear, and embarrassment hit me in equal measure, burrowing beneath my skin like tendrils of poison. It was painful to watch as each clan leader added to the shame I felt. These men and women felt that I had failed them, that my decisions were not to aid them. I wanted to be angry with them, but I could not. It was my job to protect them, to make them feel valued and offer them what they needed, whether that be vengeance or peace, and in their eyes I was not doing that.

But they were wrong... Weren't they?

It is true, I had given Skaikru much more leniency than I would normally grant. But did they not deserve time to adjust? Or was I just buying time as I waited for Clarke to return, so deeply entrenched in denial that I would foresake my own people for hers?

I got to my feet, slowly stepping down to Nia's level. She was grinning as though she had already won, and in a way she had. Somehow, I had fallen right into her trap. But she still had to say the words, she still had to challenge me and my title. And when I have proven that I am still strong, that I am still worthy of my night blood, then I would finally slit this bitches throat.  
“Say it.” I spat at her,staying two steps back so that I wouldn't have to tilt my head to stare into her black, beetle-like eyes.

“I challenge you, Lexa kom Trikru, to prove your worth, for the title of Heda.”

 

_**Clarke Griffin** _

I had picked myself up off the floor eventually, swallowing as much cold water as my throat could handle, and then picked up my sword and started my daily forms. They were a variation on what Lexa had originally taught me, if only to compensate for my weak shoulder and the pull and strain on my scarred back and shoulders. I wanted the moves to retain the same level of grace, strength and fluidity, so I had played around with it a bit.

Still, it helped to focus me, to center my raging emotions, to remind me that I lived on planet Earth with the rest of the human race. Without Lexa, it was the only way I had to ground myself.

But even with sore and exhausted muscles, my body covered with a light sheen of sweat, and heavy breathing, my fingers twitched restlessly. Even as I groaned in frustration, I had to smile. My dad had always warned me that I had the 'twitch'. He had said that even if I didn't want them to, the pictures would flow through me until they were finished spilling out, all I could do was enjoy the ride.

So, until the sun started to rise, I found myself drawing once again. Lexa was syill predominate in my minds eye. It made my heart ache. The pang in my chest had just become such a part of me that I barely felt it anymore, but the deep ache was ever-present.

As the morning light started to filter through the spilling water, I walked to the entrance of the cave, my left hand brushing over the charcoal image of Lexa. It was still my favorite one. In it Lexa was standing over the bed, a blazing morning sun painting her in a halo of light. She was crouched, a dagger in her right hand, her face set in a scowl, ready to attack whoever had disturbed her sleep. And to top it all off she was completely nude, each and every beautiful line and muscle in shadowed detail.

When I had drawn it, I couldn't figure out why I loved it so much, but I think I knew now. It was Lexa, every part of her that I loved. She was strong, yet vulnerable. She was beautiful, but wild. She was protective, but playful. She was dangerous, but loving. Soft and hard, contradictions abounded, and I loved her for it.

I knew that I had to go back. My people were relying on me, they would need me. But I couldn't be without my Commander. I couldn't keep punishing myself when I knew, if I were truly ready to admit it to myself, that it would be hurting the people I love the most.

Fear was not an emotion I was friendly with. Especially not as of late. But I was never a coward either. The waterfall hit my neck as I left with my things, the tray of freshly butchered meat dragging behind me. First, the old drop-ship, there would be people there by now. But then I had to head straight for Polis.

 

By horse, it had taken Lexa and I roughly an hour to make the trip from the drop ship to the waterfall. But on foot, dragging my weight in meat behind me, it took me three before I started to recognize the area. It seemed like so long ago that I had first been abducted and taken to meet Lexa from these very woods, but it had only been a matter of weeks and that thought alone was enough to frighten me.

The last time I had been to the drop ship it had been littered with the people I had failed. In my absence they had been slaughtered. It had broken me. But it had also been the foundation that a new kind of strength had been built on. And although I would never forget all the deaths that weighed on me, I would use them to give me stregth, just like I did then.

I stopped when I reached the back wall. I could see the drop ship over the top of the haphazard construction, but in front of me were two rows of graves. They were mostly defined by the raised mounds of dirt, but each one also had a large rock at it's head.

I knelt down by one of the graves, no longer sure whose was whose, but before I could do anything more, an arrow whizzed past my ear and thunked into the tree behind me.

As though I had been doing it all my life, my body leapt into action. I rolled to the right as another arrow landed in the dirt where I had been only moments before. My eyes scanned the tree's around me, searching the top of the wall in case it had been one of my own people mistaking me for someone else. It was just as a third arrow was released with a soft twang, that I spotted my attacker.

It was a woman wearing grey and white furs, chalky white war paint covering half her already pale face. The third shot was wide and before it had even embedded itself in a tree trunk, I had shot out of my defensive crouch as was weaving through the trees toward my attacker. But when I got to where she had been perched she had already moved.

The second I spent looking left and right gave her ample opportunity to drop down on me from above. I swore as her fist collided with my temple, both of us tumbling to the ground when my knees gave out. I flipped under her, my back digging into the sticks and rocks on the ground and we both clawed for purchase on the other. She screamed when my nails dug into her cheek, drawing four long lines of red blood through the white paint..

I reached down to my boot with my left hand, my right trying to keep her fingers from closing around my neck. But the handle of my dagger slipped through my blood stained fingers. Giving up on the weapon, black spots starting to dance in my eyes from the lack of oxygen, I instead frantically punched at the woman's rib cage.

She cried out in pain when a rib cracked, releasing the pressure on my wind pipe long enough for me to pull in a ragged gasp of air. Desperately, I hooked my legs behind her, bucking my hips as hard as I could and using the leverage to flip us over. A feral growl ripped from her throat as I straddled her struggling body, my weight not really enough to keep her still.

My fist pulled back, seemingly on it's own, and then shot forward, connecting with her nose. Blood instantly blossomed across her face, splattering me in red. I hit her again, hearing the crunch of her nose being well and truly broken. And then a third time for good measure.

She lay limp beneath me as I breathed heavily, trying to calm my racing heart. As the fog cleared from my mind and I started to think instead of react, I stared down at my bloodied hands. I jumped back as though electrocuted, scrambling away from the unconscious woman.

After a few minutes of shell-shocked staring, I searched the woman. I found nothing out of the ordinary to explain why she had attacked me until I pulled a rolled up piece of paper from her belt. On it there was a rather crude picture of a woman. It may not have been a masterpiece, but the artist was good enough that there was no mistake the picture was of me.

I tied the woman up, propping her against the tree and crawled through the back entrance to the camp. I needed help to bring the woman in, to question her. It didn't make sense that I was being attacked.

It didn't occur to me that it was much too quiet in the forest. Or that some kind of guard or sentry should have seen my fight with the grounder woman and maybe tried to help. My mind was so preoccupied with actually being attacked, that I forgot to wonder how it could have happened.

So when I emerged from the short tunnel leading into the back of my old camp, and I was greeted with a silence so profound that it rang in my head, I was stunned into complete motionlessness. I half expected to see fresh bodies littering the ground, to have to repeat the nightmare I was faced with only weeks ago, but what I found was nearly as jarring.

It was empty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave your comments and kudos, i love reading what you have to say.


	4. Home Was Lexa

The eiry silence was actually deafening. I had heard the phrase before, but I had never really understood it until this moment. I felt as though just the absence of the camps normal background noise meant that there was no sound in the entire world. The wind and rustling forest around me didn't quite register, unable to penetrate the unnatural cocoon of wrongness that enveloped my old home.

It wasn't like no one had been there. The camp had a sort of lived in feeling. The central fire pit, while not lit, had definitely held a fire recently. There was fresh water collected in the large pump station, which looked as though it had received a few upgrades. There was fresh fruit and nuts in the ration stores. And there were half constructed structures where the front wall had once stood.

At first glance, it was as though whoever had been there had just decided to get up and leave out of nowhere.

But looking more closely, I got a different story.

There were signs of a fight. A few guns lay around the camp, as though they were forgotten tools. Some cut logs were splintered where stray bullets had sprayed through the lumber. There were pools of half dried blood in the dirt, splatters across logs. Drag marks scored the ground all leading out of the camp and a war horn was half buried under a gray and white fur.

My head spun as I tried to process what I was seeing, the proof that was right in front of my eyes and yet couldn't be the truth. Grounders had attacked the drop ship. And they had either dragged away all the casualties, or taken everyone alive, or some combination of the two. I had to comfort myself with the fact that there wasn't nearly enough blood or damage for any larger number of people to have died here. But that didn't mean that they hadn't died somewhere else...

But there was a truce between Skaikru and the grounders, Lexa wouldn't have broken that without provocation... would she?

No. No, I know Lexa. I know Lexa better than I know myself. I know Lexa as though I've known her my whole life... She wouldn't let this happen, she said that my people were her people and that means she would protect them as such. So this was a rogue group, someone who wasn't happy with the alliance. Unfortunately, that still left a number of possibilities.

I was wrenched out of my thoughts by the long wail of a war horn, the sounds bouncing around the trees. Once it had faded I could hear the solid, constant beating of drums. The forest made it impossible to determine how close the grounders actually were, but I didn't like the way the sound was growing in strength and intensity.

There were two clear options available to me, both were potentially stupid and dangerous. I could go in search of whoever was beating those drums, hoping that I could go unnoticed. If it was a big enough band, then I could probably slip through the cracks. But I had no way of knowing who it was or how well prepared they were until I actually found them. And yet, I had no doubt that this was the course of action that would tell me what had happened here at the drop ship.

But, there was another choice. I knew one person who would always welcome me. No matter what was happening, I had no doubt that Lexa would want to help and protect me. If I headed straight to Polis, then I could probably get information there. Not to mention that if there was any of my people left, the grounder city was where they woul be.

Yet again, my heart was torn in two. Neither choice was wrong, both could get me the answers I wanted and needed. Last time I had ignored the ache in my heart, I had walked away. But that had been the best choice. I had saved so many more lives then I could have by staying with Lexa.

This time, there was no plan, I had no information to work off. I longed to turn toward Polis. I needed to feel Lexa's strong arms wrap around me like I needed air to fill my lungs. I needed to hear her voice, like velvet in my ears, soothing every part of me. Just the thought of being able to actually see the Commander was sending a warm calm through my veins, unlocking my clenched muscles.

I could hear the war drums, beating like the forests own personal heart beat. It was rapid and jarred with my own heart, it felt wrong, like the timing was off. It was as though nature itself didn't agree with whoever was out there. I didn't know what was wrong or how I could possibly fix it, but I knew that I had to.

Looking around, my mind finally made up, I wondered when the drop ship had stopped feeling like home. I still felt attached to the place, there were too many memories for me not to feel nostalgic, but it no longer held that pull. That pull that was ever present within me, like a compass pointing due north.

My home had once been a space station. That world had been reduced to one small cell, and then to this camp. But now, now home didn't feel like a place. Home wasn't a location that made me feel safe, that was filled with the people I loved. Home was so much simpler than that, and at the same time so complicated that I couldn't hope to properly explain it.

Home was a feeling. It was like love, it was a glowing warmth. It wasn't always safe and secure. You didn't find it and watch your worries float away on some fantastical cloud of hopes and dreams. But it was where you wanted to be, it was where you needed to be. Home was that feeling that no matter what was going wrong, no matter what you faced, you were going to pull through. I wasn't easy and it scared me more than nearly anything else, but it was the best kind of fear.

Home was Lexa.

I left the tunnel without looking back at the camp again, picking my way as carefully as I could through the trees. I moved quickly away from the grounder woman that had attacked me, away from the deep bass of the pounding drums, away from the drop ship.

It was time to go home.

 

I hate arrows.

Why did every grounder on this stupid planet know how to shoot a damn arrow? Another white tipped projectile whizzed past my ear and I ran faster, no longer trying to dodge the green plants along the forest floor. A fallen tree loomed in front of my and I put my right hand on the decaying wood, using it to help launch me over.

I was in mid air, my eyes on the ground where I planned to land, when I was jerked to an abrupt halt. Gravity caught up to my body and I crashed down onto the tree trunk, the air escaping my lungs in a rush. Fiery pain lanced through my hand, burning up my arm and tearing a strangled cry from my dry lips. Tears swam in my eyes as I looked to my hand, sucking in a harsh breath when I saw an arrow protruding from my hand, pinning it to the wood. Black blood was starting to flow from the wound in slow pulses and, for the first time in a very long time I actually wished I had a gun. Nothing would have given me greater pleasure than to shoot a damn bullet at these arrow loving freaks.

With gritted teeth and a loud whine, I snapped the shaft just above my hand and wrenched myself free, scrambling off the dead tree and collapsing on the ground. I held my hand to my chest as I strained my ears for my attacker. The tree only offered me protection as long as they didn't flank me.

I had counted two, but I could have been wrong. I slipped a slim dagger free with my left hand and waited, holding my breath. If I could take out one quickly then I stood a chance.

I heard footsteps coming from the other side of my hiding spot. They were light, barely a whisper against the earth. And if I were a normal person then maybe I wouldn't be able to say with near certainty that they were about thriteen feet away, slightly to the right. But the familiar prickling started in the base of my skull, the A.I coming to life in order to preserve mine.

One half a second longer for my muscles to tense and shift, my grip on the blade of my dagger to loosen, and then I sprang up. My body was almost on autopilot as my left arm pulled back, even while my torso was still twisting to give me the best shot. My wrist whipped out with lightening speed and the dagger flew from my grip, spinning three times before a sickening wet crunch filled the space between me and my target.

I wanted to retch as I ducked back down, just in time to avoid an arrow through my head. But I didn't have much time to worry about the person I had just killed because the second warrior let out a pained wail. He came crashing toward where I was, barreling through the foilage without any concern for giving away his position. I pressed myself back against the rotting wood of the fallen tree just as the man dived over my head, crashing face first into the forest floor.

To his credit, he didn't take long to recover, rolling to a stop with two swords drawn. His face was scarred and painted in white, bright red from a combination of exertion and rage.

I swore as I rose to my feet, my right hand still bleeding and cradled against my chest as my left pulled my sword free. He lunged as soon as his feet were under him again, both of his blades swinging wildly. I brought my own weapon up and caught one sword on its edge, but the other glanced off the polished metal before grazing my thumb and sparking off my vambrace.

I cried out, barely able to keep a hold of my sword as blood started to spill into my palm and down my wrist.

The grounder kept swinging though, metal dancing maliciously through the air. Each time I managed to block or parry, my sword slipped just a little more. But more often than not his blades would find flesh and cloth. It felt as though I were being cut to ribbons, my body a stinging black mess of fresh wounds.

Every muscle and joint was locking into place, refusing to move properly. Exhaustion was washing over me, replacing the blood that was seeping from every conceivable place. The man laughed before kicking me in the stomach, sending me sprawling into the dirt. My sword finally flew from my feeble grasp and I desperately rolled onto my stomach, trying to reach it.

A scream I hardly recognized as my own, tore through the trees when the warrior loomed over me, and laughing to himself, impaled my left thigh with one of his swords. I felt as it sliced effortlessly through flesh and muscle before sticking into the hard earth.  
“Do you surrender, Oh Mighty Wanheda?” He asked in a gravelly voice that was dripping in sarcasm. When I just lay there breathing heavily through the pain, he reached down and pulled his sword free, then delivered a swift kick to my ribs, flipping me onto my back.

The sun was directly overhead, filtering through the thick emerald green canopy. I smiled, knowing I must look crazy, because that was the color of Lexa's eyes. If I couldn't see Lexa one last time before I died, at least I could pretend that I was looking into her eyes.

I was so tired. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I could finally rest. I wouldn't have to worry about finding food, or curing strange illnesses, or wars with arrow-loving lunatics. Maybe I could finally be that normal girl madly in love... madly in love with another normal girl.

The end of the thought seemed to snap me out of my weird daze, the pain rushing back to me and forcing a sharp clarity. I wasn't finished yet. There was still things I had to do. I would get to have those boringly normal moments with Lexa, but only if I survived. Survival I could do, I was good at survival.

Bracing myself for the inevitable, I sat up in one impossibly fluid motion. Just like I had expected, this earned me a swift punch to my jaw, forcing me to reel back. But it had been enough.

“Wanheda?” I asked, spitting out a mouthful of blood, “Doesn't that mean Commander of death? You called me the commander of death?” I was actually curious about my apparent new nickname, but I was more interested in getting him to come closer.  
“The stories must have been exaggerated,” he growled as he crouched down, the tip of a sword resting on my throat, “You are nothing but a pathetic girl.”

I smiled, leaning forward so that I could speak right into his ear, ignoring the sting as his sword drew blood. The grounder watched me as I did, but obviously didn't think I was much of a threat at this point.  
“I haven't heard the stories,” I confessed softly, shifting my weight onto my left arm as discretely as possible. “But I hate to disappoint.”

It came out as a growl, my right hand, tight around the handle of my remaining dagger, shot up and slipped the cold steel straight into his neck. His blood poured out over my hand before he could jerk back in surprise, his hand closing around the dagger and stupidly pulling it free. I cringed as he toppled onto my legs, his hands were clutching desperately at the wound in his neck but it was no use.

With the last of my strength I pushed him off of me, falling onto my side and trying to catch my breath. The pain that ran over my skin was nothing compared to the deep burns I had suffered through, but it was enough to make every muscle quake and tremble.

Wanheda...

Was that why these grounders seemed to be hunting me through the forest? They thought I was some kind of grim reaper? If that were true then I couldn't really blame them, could I? We all tried to chase away the monsters, fight off the demons...

With shaking limbs I pushed myself to my feet and collected my daggers from the dead warriors, cleaning them off on the grey furs before sheathing them in my boots once again. Each step was excruciating and I limped thanks to the new hole through my thingh, but I finally picked up my sword and turned toward Polis once again. I would worry about the details later. Survive now, worry about why and how later.

 

_**Lexa** _

The familiar sound of clanging metal and frustrated grunts was usually welcoming. I often found I was calmest when I was doing something, whether that be training or traveling, it served to bring me a peace that was, until recently, unrivaled. But today, as I approached the training grounds, cloaked and without my Heda regalia, the scene did nothing to ease my scorched heart.

I was looking for Indra. She was one of the only people I felt I could trust, and she always seemed to know what was happening in and around Polis. Perhaps wanting information about these 'Wanheda' sightings was selfish, but if Clarke did truly live, she was in more danger now then she had ever been in before. Nia took a particular pleasure in attacking my heart rather than my armies and I couldn't give her that chance... Not this time.

Sure enough, Indra was in the middle of the large fenced off circle, she was locked in a sparring match with her _sekon_ , young Octavia. I could not help the small pull on my lips, Clarke had known the passionate young brunette would force her way into something like this, not one to sit by or give up. Beside the fighting women where Lincoln and a young boy I recognized from somewhere. Lincoln was showing the boy some simple maneuvers, but he was much more likely to notice me than Indra and Octavia, so that is where I focused my attentions.

Soon enough, he saw me, his eyes flitting over me before snapping back and opening wide. He stiffened and I shook my head in one slow motion, beckoning him to me with a curl of my wrist. After muttering something to the boy and glancing over his shoulder at Octavia and Indra, he started to cross the field with forced casualness. He stopped on the other side of the fence, turning and leaning against the ancient wood so that he was looking over the people training.

“Heda...” he acknowledged, his voice low and somehow humble. I studied him in my peripheral. He was tall and strong, but he did not carry himself with the self assured arrogance that many experienced warriors adopted. I knew that he had fallen in love with young Octavia, and I could understand why, but that also meant that Clarke had come to trust him. I also liked the way his loyalty seemed to extend from his lover to her people, he would protect Clarke for as long as Octavia was willing to ask him to do so.

“Who is your student, Lincoln?” I asked, aware that I wasn't nearly as formal as he would expect me to be. At the mention of the boy a smile spread across the man's features.  
“Xander, Heda.” he answered, crossing his arms and looking at the boy with unmistakable pride, “I found him following Clarke to the mountain. He says she saved him, his brother and his sisters, and he wanted to help her get her family back.”

The memory clicked into place now; Clarke hugging four children goodbye before pushing them toward a stone building. The first time the blonde had come to Polis, dripping blood from a bullet wound. I forced myself to breath as a shot of anger flew through me, remembering how furious I had been that she was hurt. Even then, when I barely knew her, I had felt so strongly.

“She inspires loyalty and love.” It was barely more than a whisper, Lincoln was not meant to hear it, but it had spilled out on my breath as though needing to be out in the world. He looked at me then, all pretense dropped.  
“Only because she gave them freely to begin with.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, sudden and unexpected. I missed her and each time the realization hit me was like a well placed sucker punch. I did not trust myself to speak, but luckily Lincoln noticed the change and bowed away gracefully, telling me he would get Indra. There was an odd kind of kinship between us, whether it was the start of a natural friendship, or simply because our hearts belonged to the sky, it did not matter. I was thankful that even though his support would always be silent, it was there.

 

Indra and Octavia had come over when Lincoln pointed me out, following me until we were in one of the secluded alleyways that snaked through Polis. Neither one needed to be told about what had happened in the throne room only hours before and my general was visibly livid at the treachery.

“If you wish, Heda, I will take care of them all. They will suffer for their treason!” Indra barked, her voice filled with venom and as hushed as I believed she was capable of making it. I appreciated the offer, her absolute trust and belief in me, but I couldn't sanction the deaths of every clan leader.  
“No Indra.” I said softly, “They have the right to question me. It is a law that was put in place for a reason. It matters not, I will not lose this challenge.”  
“Nia is not an honorable woman, Heda, she has some plot-”  
“I am well aware that she can not be trusted, Indra.”

I did not mean to be as stern as I was, but I found no benefit in talking circles around my situation. I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose as I tried to fight off the latest in a series of headaches.  
“What I am interested in,” I said once I felt steady again, “is the sightings of Clarke that Titus and Nia were speaking of.” The severe woman held no love for Clarke, but I knew that she had come to respect her during their time in Mount Weather.

“A number of Trikru hunters have reported seeing a blonde woman carrying Clarke's armor and weapon moving through the forest in their lands.” The general reported, taking on a more formal tone out of habit. “She looked mostly unharmed, but would always disappear before anyone could get close enough to actually speak to her.” I nodded, waiting for her to continue. When she did not, I prompted her;  
“Did no one try to track her, notice the direction she was traveling in?”  
“She covered her tracks and based on the locations of each sighting, had no real destination.”

Octavia shuffled restlessly beside her mentor, her grip just a little too tight on her sword.  
“What is it, Octavia?” I asked when it became apparent that no one was going to offer the information.  
“People have been handing out these,” She said, pulling a small scroll from her belt. I unrolled it and nearly crumpled it in my fist the very next second. It was a picture of Clarke, flat and lifeless, nothing like the masterpieces the blonde herself produced, but still unmistakably Clarke. “They say that the person who delivers Wanheda to the Ice Queen will be rewarded with anything they ask for.”

I felt sick.

Nia had put a bounty on Clarke. She wanted the privilege of killing the SkaiPrisa, of gaining the power of the Commander of Death. Logically, I knew that was the reason Clarke was being targeted, because of the legend that had grown around her. But in my minds eye all I could see was Costia's head where Azgeda had left it, in the middle of my bed. The Ice Queen would not lose any sleep knowing that she had ripped yet another lover from my arms.

“I have to find her...” I whispered, my chest like a block of ice, heavy, cold and hard. I could barely breathe as a strange panic started to wrap around me. “I have to find Clarke.”

I turned to leave the incognito meeting but before I could even take a step, a small, iron-like grip wrapped around my arm. Octavia seemed to realize what she had done a second later, letting go as though I had burned her with my reflexive glare. I softened my expression but the girl recovered quickly, straightening her back.

“You can't, Commander.” She said, sounding as though she were trying to muster the strength for an argument.  
“Excuse me?” I asked incredulously, this girl had a pair on her...  
“You have to win this challenge, you know you do. Clarke is tough. If she really is alive then nothing will keep her away from her people. But if you aren't Commander when she shows up then no one will be in any position to fix any of this shit.”

I wanted to argue with the small warrior. I wanted to claim that I could go out and find Clarke and still make it back in time to fight. But she was right. It was the impulse to chase after Clarke that had me fighting for my life and my birthright. I was confident that I made the right decisions for my people, but I would have to keep doing so if I was to be worthy of leading them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone for all your support. It can make my day to read some comments and i love that i can write something that you seem to be enjoying.  
> Don't be shy, leave your comments and kudos for me.


	5. I Have Never Had A Home Before

_**Clarke Griffin**_  
I didn't notice when I lost control. Each and every breath was a practice in endurance, every step took all my strength, and all my body wanted to do was curl up and sleep through the rest of this horrible day. But at some point it stopped being me that lifted my feet, that pushed forward as though it was the only option. I didn't even notice the buzzing prickle at the base of my skull. At least not until I wanted to find the river.

My eyes widened as I realized that I was no longer the one directing my body. It made sense, the A.I would always take over when I was most vulnerable, least likely to try fighting it off. Usually, that was when I was emotionally vulnerable, but apparently it extended to when my body was at the very end of its limits too.

It was no longer the ache in my heart that was drawing me closer to Lexa, but the sharp tugging on my chest, the urge to hunt and kill my enemy. Lexa said it was the _Spirit_ of the Heda's greatest rival and enemy, that some woman from a century ago had wanted the first Commander dead and now I carried her very soul within me. My theory was that this _Spirit_ was in fact a chip containing an artificial intelligence, one that really wanted Lexa dead.

All I could do was watch as the chip dragged my body through the forest, I didn't have the strength to fight it off. I could still feel the pain from my wounds, my leather pants and even the body armor I was wearing were in shreds, and I was covered in a mixture of dried blood, both red and black. I told myself that I would let the chip get me close to Lexa, once it did I would fight it off... I was just gathering my strength, waiting for the right moment... At least that's what I told myself.

It was late afternoon when I entered an underground tunnel. This is how I had first come to Polis, but I had been blindfolded at the time. Apparently my body remembered the route even though my eyes were covered. Soon, the halls became familiar, I had been down here one other time, with Lexa.

I was so close, my heart racing, adrenalin pumping through my body as it prepared for a fight. I couldn't let that happen though. My body was so weak that a fight, even with Lexa in complete control, could mean my death. I would gladly give my life for Lexa, wouldn't hesitate, but I hadn't survived this long to give up without a fight.

So, even as I sneaked through the tunnels, ducking two guards, I started to push against the seemingly impenetrable wall in my mind. I let thoughts of Lexa fill my mind, memories of our short time together. Instantly the vicious yanking on my chest lightened, the warmth spreading softly into my limbs. I thought of her touch, the sound of her laugh, that playful, devilish smirk that she reserved just for me.

It wasn't like the other times that I had taken back control, it wasn't sudden and jarring. It was more of a gentle transition, everything coming to me in increments. By the time I could stop, I had made it onto the staircase and had already climbed eight flights of stairs.

My steps stuttered once before I let myself fall forward, catching myself on shaking arms as I knelt on the landing. I was breathing heavily now, the pain of moving so consistently for so long catching up to me quickly. My eyes stung with tears that I refused to cry and with a whimper, I pushed myself to my feet and looked up. This tower was too damn tall, Lexa should move to a smaller tower...

The top floor was surprisingly empty when I stumbled through the door at the top of the stairs, fighting for every ragged draw of breath. Many of my injuries had reopened, fresh blood soaking through the rags clinging to my battered body. But I could see Lexa's door, and even if she wasn't in there, I knew just being in that room would help me heal.

I felt as though I was clawing my way down the corridor, half dragging my left leg because it would no longer carry my weight. A bloody hand landed on the handle and I fell through the door, closing it behind me before turning to scan the room.

My heart sank when I saw that it was empty. The sun had nearly set, a touch of orange lining the horizon and casting shadows over the room. Usually there were innumerable candles lit, but it looked as though Lexa hadn't been in here all day.

My head was spinning, the pain in my body causing my muscles to shake violently. I fell to my knees just inside the door, blackness creeping into the edges of my vision. I think I fell forward, my cheek resting on rug when the room tilted to the side. It may have hurt, but before I could register any more pain, unconsciousness washed over me, offering me a sweet, if temporary release.

 

 _ **Lexa**_  
In an attempt to push Clarke from my mind, I had accompanied Indra and Octavia back to the training grounds. I had spent the day teaching Octavia and young Xander some of my own fighting techniques. They were both surprisingly skilled, quick learners with raw potential. Xander reminded me of some of my Natblida novitiates.

And both warriors reminded me of Clarke.

It was a bittersweet feeling, both painful and heartening at the same time. They were so passionate and dedicated, so eager. I stayed because it felt good to be doing something as simple as teaching. Heda's spirit had given me so much knowledge and wisdom and it was my duty to use that to lead my people, but passing on some of that felt so good.

When the sun began to sink below the horizon, bathing the training grounds in a bronze glow, my students both lay spread eagle on the ground, their chests heaving as they fought for breath. With a small, slightly smug, smirk, I conceded that it was time to part ways and sent my four companions off to get themselves some food.

Even though I had enjoyed their company, I needed some time to myself before the challenge that was scheduled for noon the next day, so I assured them I would have food brought to my rooms. It was a little relieving to be by myself as I walked slowly back to the tower, hoping to dodge most of Skaikru on my way up. I had never been very good at making friends, partly due to my birthright, but also because I just wasn't sure how to be a friend. Being Heda was easy in comparison.

I got to the elevator without incidence, pulling the doors closed mindlessly. My body knew the way to my chambers and I was lost in thoughts of my SkaiPrisa as I stepped into the hall. I would win this fight tomorrow, kill Nia for her insolence, even if I would secretly enjoy watching the life leave her body. But then, then I would send all of my best scouts into the forest in and around the Trikru lands until someone found Clarke. I would go myself and cut down every tree until she was in my arms again...

I missed her, colors just did not seem as bright without her, sounds were not as sweet... And I was like a love-sick child.

I sighed as I reached my door, my hand extended to take a hold of the handle – The handle that was stained an inky black. I froze, staring at the smudge. It looked... it looked like blood, like my blood.

My eyes shot open wide as realization slammed into me. I was instantly filled with this immense feeling of pressure, like my body was about to explode. The space in my chest that had been conspicuously hollow since I had left Clarke at the mountain, was suddenly filled by something much too big and warm. Adrenalin pumped through my body, filling my veins and seeping into every muscle. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think.

It was hope.

That is what had just filled me to the brim. A hope so full and solid that there was no room for anything else, not even a proper thought. Because if I had been able to think, then it may have registered that there was blood, and blood was usually bad. As it was, I closed my shaking hand over the door handle and pushed into my room, scared and excited to see the woman I loved so deeply.

At first glance, the room was empty.

It was dark, the sun gone and no candles lit. There wasn't any obvious signs that someone had been in the room and I did not just deflate, every feeling left me in a debilitating rush. My shoulders slumped and my head fell to my chest, my eyes squeezed shut as my body shuddered. I was not used to this disappointment because I was not used to hope and it hurt more than I could possibly imagine.

I opened my eyes and made to step into my room, which is the moment my sight caught on a part of the floor that was lighter than the rest, catching the faint moonlight that barely slipped into the room. My heart jumped into my throat and for a split second everything in the world was right because I would recognize that blonde hair anywhere. But then my mind caught up with my heart and it registered that she was unconscious on my floor.

In one lightening fast movement I was kneeling beside her, gently turning her and lifting her head onto my lap. Her chest was rising and falling shallowly, but the relief that washed over me at the knowledge that she was alive was staggering. Tears were running down my cheeks as I brushed hair from her face, bruised and bloody, a cut over her left eyebrow.  
“Klark...” I half sobbed.

With as much tenderness as I could muster, I laid her back onto the floor and rushed to a lantern on my coffee table, lighting it with trembling fingers and sliding back to Clarke's side.

She was dressed in the remnants of leather pants and chest plate, both sliced to shreds and sticking to the various cuts on her body. The sheer amount of blood had my heart racing, there was too much of it and it was hard to tell how much of it was black and how much wasn't actually hers. There was a hole straight through her right palm and it looked as though a blade had been impaled through her leg at some point.

I was no healer, there was no way that I could possibly treat damage this extensive. I could not trust the warriors that were close by, not that there were any on this floor, and I could not leave Clarke here alone. Panic was starting to take over. I felt so powerless, it was not a feeling I had much experience with and it was breaking my cool resolve.

I gently kissed my SkaiPrisa's forehead, holding her face between my hands as I studied her features. They had changed, not in any pronounced physical way. There was just an extra kind of hardness to her jawline. The hollowness of her cheeks had been replaced, but there were deep dark circles under her eyes.

Now that I had met her mother I could see the resemblance. Clarke must have her father's eyes and blonde curls, but there was a more subtle likeness that she shared with her mother. And I had no doubt she had gotten her fiery passion from her mother too. The woman would kill me when she found Clarke like this...

It hit me like icy cold water to the face and I leapt to my feet, almost falling over my own feet as I darted through my door and into the corridor. I skidded to a stop in front of Clarke's door and pounded on the door with all my strength. I did not stop until the door swung open and I was greeted by the mechanic who had a gun leveled at my head.

Her brows rose and the end of the gun dropped an inch when she recognized me. I pushed onto my toes and craned my neck to try to see past her, uncaring about how ridiculous and unlike the Commander I might look.  
“Commander...” She said suspiciously, her eyes flitting up and down my body. I wanted to push her out of the way and order Clarke's mother forward, but that was not how Skaikru worked, they would not respond well to force.  
“Dr. Griffin,” I had meant to sound authoritative and somewhat calm, but it came out as a whimper and everything I was going to say left my mind. “Klark... hurry, beja.” I was getting desperate, bouncing on my toes because I wanted to run back to Clarke.  
“Wait, what?” the mechanic asked, the gun falling to her side.

I could not take it, I pushed past her and immediately ran right into Abby Griffin who was wearing a scowl. I grabbed her arm and started pulling her from the room.”  
Beja, hurry, she is hurt.” I was trying desperately to speak coherently around the lump in my throat, needing the healer to understand.

I do not know if she understood that I was talking about her daughter, but it at least registered that someone needed her help and she did not fight me as I tugged her down the hall. I released her when we reached my door, falling down beside Clarke once again and taking her uninjured hand between my own, she was too cold.

“Clarke.” the woman breathed out, quickly dropping to her knees on Clarke's other side. I watched as she ran her hands over her daughters body, checking her pulse, assessing her wounds.  
“Holy fuck...” I looked up to see the mechanic, Raven, standing in the doorway, a big slung over her shoulder. “Princess has looked better.” before I could growl out a retort to the woman, Clarke's mother started shooting off orders.

“I need a fire in that fireplace, boiled water, blankets, anything that can be used as bandaging, and help, Jackson or that Nyko guy. She needs to be moved over to the fireplace too, but I can't lift her with my burns...” Without hesitation I placed Clarkes hand on her stomach and got into a crouch, putting one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders. Then, with a strained huff, I lifted her up, moving quickly to the floor by my fireplace.

I put her down as gently as I could and immediately turned to light the fire. Within a minute there was a small fire going. Only then did I turn back to the others. Abby was by Clarke, a few more candles now lit around them. She was cutting away the remainder or Clarke's clothing and I was suddenly very shy.

“There is always fresh water in the bathroom.” I told the healer as I averted my eyes from Clarke's nearly naked body, “I will go and get Nyko.”

 

They worked on Clarke for an hour, cleaning all her various cuts, stitching the worst one's closed and bandaging everything. I sat silently and watched over them the entire time, my heart never slowing, the horrible feeling in my gut never easing. Raven sat beside me, and I was not sure whether it was for me or Clarke. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but I did not know her so I was not going to inquire.

“You really do love her, don't you?” She finally asked. My elbows were resting on my knees and I looked over at her without straightening.  
“Yes.” Her brows furrowed and she studied me.  
“That's all?” She asked, “A simple 'yes'?”  
“What more is there to say?” The woman smirked and I suddenly felt as though I had slipped into a trap.  
“Oh, nothing. It's fine...” She comforted, “Just, usually when you ask a person a question like that, they go into some long spiel about how much they love a person. How they are the stars and the moon, how their love is more powerful than two colliding galaxies, they mean more than anything else and their love is like a magical force of nature that can topple kingdoms and slay dragons... So your answer kinda sucks in comparison, don't you think?”

For one long second I stared at the mechanic, watching as her eyes sparked mischievously. Then, despite myself, I laughed. She smiled triumphantly.  
“There you go. You were making everyone tense, Commander.” I nodded once, allowing a small smile for her before sobering a bit once again and looking back to Clarke.  
“Clarke is home... I have never had a home before.” Raven smiled and nudged me until I looked over at her again.  
“She's tough, she'll be good as new in no time.” I knew she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to comfort me, but I appreciated it regardless.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wasn't the original plan but this chapter kinda wrote itself so i went with it. That's also why this update was so quick :)  
> Let me know what you think.


	6. Spirits, She's Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, i'm going to ramble just a bit here. First off, sorry it took longer than usual to write this, had my sisters birthday and it's school holidays so i spent a day with my beautiful nieces, and i had a few appointments... Basically, I've been busier than usual.  
> But, it can also be a little harder for me when i decide to write smut, which is what is in this chapter. This is your warning, if you have a problem with explicit material then you should probably skip to the Lexa pov. I have been avoiding smut because i'm not as confident writing it, but let me know what you think, if and where i can improve.

_**Clarke Griffin**_  
Heat. Blinding light. Smoke. Searing pain. Burning flesh. Chilling screams. Agonized sobs. Choking breaths. Empty eyes.

Lexa...

A scream tore from my lips and I shot upright, whimpering as I struggled to pull in air. I tried to focus my eyes in the dimly lit room, my hands grasping at the soft furs now pooled around my very naked waist. Wincing at the pain that shot through my hand, I pulled the furs back up to cover my chest.

I was in a bed, an over sized and particularly familiar bed. There was a bandage wrapped around my injured hand, but it looked as though my less serious cuts and bruises were well on their way to fully healed. It was only as a warm hand landed on my shoulder that I realized that I wasn't alone. I flinched involuntarily at the sudden touch, my head snapping to the side to see who it was.

Lexa had pulled away her hand when I had flinched and I instantly regretted the loss. The panic I had felt just moments before melted away as soon as I found her emerald green eyes though. My heart stuttered in my chest before picking up a rapid pace and, with tears threatening to spill, I reached over with my left hand to cup her face. She sighed in relief at my touch, turning into my hand and brushing her lips against my palm.

The simple action sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach and my breath hitched.  
“Lexa...” I whispered hoarsely, not caring about the rawness in my throat when she smiled. It was enough to make my heart swell, drowning out the constant tug of the A.I. For the first time since I had been dragged to the Sky Box, I felt like I could honestly say that I was where I belonged.  
“Klark, ai hod yu in.” Lexa breathed, leaning forward slowly.

When she fit her lips against mine I couldn't help but lean into the kiss, desperate for the contact, needing the comfort that only Lexa could offer. A hand snaked back to rest on my neck, pulling me in deeper, begging for entrance with a flick of her tongue. I forgot all about holding the fur against my body as both of my arms went around her neck, one hand tangling in thick brown braids.

It wasn't rushed or hard, but it wasn't slow and gentle either. We both needed to feel each other, to confirm that we were really together. I had thought I was dead so many times, had nearly died so many times, and all I wanted was to feel alive.

But even as I had the thought, even as I started to turn, trying to pull Lexa even closer, she pulled back, gently unlocking my arms from around her neck and holding my wrists away from her body. I didn't even try to hide the whine that crawled up my throat. Lexa gave a soft breathy chuckle before releasing one wrist and brushing a curl behind my ear. It fell back into my eyes instantly but that only made her smile wider.

“My SkaiPrisa...” she seemed to worship the phrase as it rolled off her tongue and it sent a shiver down my spine, heat starting to pool in my center. “I thought you were dead.” The pain that flashed through Lexa's eyes broke my heart, I couldn't imagine thinking that Lexa had died. At least I had known that she was safe here in Polis.  
“I'm right here, Lexa.”

I kissed her again, I had to.

There was so much I needed to tell her, so much that I needed to ask her, but I could think of nothing but Lexa as she shifted, climbing up to carefully straddle me. She held my face between her hands, kneeling over my legs without putting any weight on me. I wanted to move, to press our bodies together, but Lexa was looking into my eyes and I felt pinned by her stare. She pressed our foreheads together after a few long moments, closing her eyes and pulling in a deep breath.

My own eyes had fluttered closed, the smell of Lexa; grass and rain, enveloping me. It was a comforting smell, something that spoke to me of the ground. My breath shuddered in my chest when she moved, her lips pressing to my temple and then my left eyebrow. Lexa left a trail of kisses down my jaw, stopping to briefly capture my lips before working back up the other side.

I rested my hands on her hips, just wanting to touch her. She started her way along my neck and I sighed, her lips leaving a sweet kind of burn in their wake. When her hands moved to my shoulders and pushed gently, I let her guide me backward until I was laying down once again. Leca nipped at my pulse, dragging a ragged moan from me before she soothed the skin with her tongue. My back arched up and I gasped as the action pressed my bare chest against the material of Lexa's shirt.

She laughed into my neck and I whined, my hands moving from her hips to push up under her shirt and pull her closer to me.  
“Lexa, please.” I begged on the end of a moan, my body becoming too hot, too sensitive. She hadn't missed the state I was in, I could tell by the way she looked at me when she pulled away far enough to see my face.  
“You are hurt, my love.” She husked, her pupils blown wide, only a faint ring of green still visible in the flickering candlelight, “Let me look after you.”

I didn't want to. I wanted to crush our bodies together, I wanted to feel every line and curve of Lexa's body against mine. I wanted to feel her muscles tense around me, I wanted to be in her, I wanted to make her sweat and cry out in pleasure. But before I could argue she was latched onto my neck again, one hand pulling the fur out from between us.

For one long moment I was lost in a sea of sensation, Lexa's hands running softly over my body while her lips burned their way across my skin. Try as I might, I couldn't remember why I would want to move, let alone how to actually do that. I wanted to touch Lexa though. I wanted to feel her heated skin against mine. But every time my hands started to claw at her shirt or belt she gently pulled them away, until finally she lifted them above my head and pinned them there.

She had moved up my body, now hovering over me as one hand held mine in place.  
“Stay still, Klark.” She purred into my ear, nibbling on the shell. My body shuddered under her, but I left my hands above my head, taking handfuls of a pillow to stop myself from wandering.

“You have so many new scars, hodness.” Lexa breathed against my shoulder, gently kissing the places the flames had licked, each brush of her lips like a soothing balm I wasn't aware I'd needed. With unbearable slowness, Lexa worked her way across my right shoulder and down my arm, finding and kissing each scar, bruise, and mark, before moving to my left and starting again. Every touch was only feeding the liquid warmth gathering at the bottom of my belly, my muscles trembling with the effort to keep from canting up into her.

She wasn't just memorizing my body and the stories it had to tell, she was worshiping me, driving me crazy with need. I was panting, my eyes shut tight, and my teeth biting into my bottom lip as I fought the urge to get friction where I needed it most. She moved over my chest, her hands cupping my breasts with frustrating tenderness, circling my nipples without actually touching.

I whimpered as my back arched into her touch, earning me that devilish smirk. The air fled my lungs as she lowered her mouth and wrapped her lips around my left nipple. She gave me a second to register the soft warmth of her mouth before she sucked, hard. The cry that echoed through the room was somewhere between a gasp and scream. Her hand took my other nipple between two fingers and pinched, drawing out another whimper, my hips bucking once before Lexa let her weight press me back down into the bed.

Wetness was starting to leak from my sex, Lexa noticing the shift when I tried to rub my thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. She laughed, her hot tongue sliding down the expanse of my twitching stomach, her body pushing my thighs apart as she positioned herself between my legs.

“Beja, Leksa...” I pleaded, my hips canting up into the air, my hands leaving their position to reach for her.  
“Patience, Klark.” Lexa husked, her hands framing my hips, her eyes nearly black as they drank me in, “I want to know every inch of you...” She kissed my left hip, “I want to touch every part of you...” Her lips pressed against my right hip before her teeth nipped harshly at the skin, her tongue darting out to sooth the mark a moment later.

She began to kiss down my right leg and I was all I could do to keep myself still as I watched her. When Lexa reached the scar left in my calf there was a sharp intake of breath, but she quickly recovered, working her way back up. My heart raced when her tongue lashed at the inside of my thigh but she moved to my left leg without reaching the place I wanted her most.

There was a frustrated grunt, my head pressing back into the pillows as my body shuddered, more arousal leaking from my aching sex.  
“I want to taste all of you...” I melted as Lexa's tongue and lips traveled down my left leg,bypassing my bandaged thigh on the way. I was a quivering mess, a fine layer of sweat coating my body. Each touch was like torture on my over-heated skin and I whimpered when Lexa blew cool air across my burning sex.

“Spirits, you are beautiful.” Lexa whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my mound.  
“Please...” I whined, one hand fisted in the bedding, the other reaching out blindly for my Commander. “Lexa, I need you...”  
“I know, Klark, I have you.” Her fingers laced with mine and stars exploded behind my eyes as her hot, wet tongue flattened against my slit and dragged torturously up to my clit. Her lips closed around me and stated a gentle pulsing pull, a ragged gasp breaking through my dry lips while I struggled to remember how to breathe.

Lexa lightly scratched the nails of her free hand over my quivering stomach muscles before sliding them through my dripping wet folds. I moaned and bit my lip, forcing my eyes open so that I could look down at her. Her tongue flicked across my clit as two fingers slid into me and I cried out, my grip on her hand tightening as my hips rocked into her mouth. She picked up a slow pace and sent me reeling when she curled her fingers with every pull, dragging across my front wall and pulling small gasps from me each time.

I whimpered when she released the suction on my clit, but Lexa started to slide up my body, her thrusts gaining speed and power as she moved. Soon she was laying over me, her weight comforting and the almost rough friction of her clothes driving me mad. Our lips were locked together and I moaned into her kiss, tasting myself on her tongue. With the limited presence of mind that I had left I slung my free arm around her neck and locked my legs around her waist, meeting her every thrust with my own.

Heat and pressure were building rapidly in my core and liquid fire was racing through every part of my body. My lungs screamed for air but I couldn't bring myself to pull away from Lexa's lips, wanting to have every part of her that I could. My body was starting to tense, my walls fluttering around Lexa's rapidly thrusting fingers. I broke away, breathing harshly into Lexa's neck, her shirt scraping against the hard nubs of my breasts.  
“Lexa...” I moaned, needing something but unable to figure out what that something was.

But it seemed Lexa knew because she growled deep in her chest and pulled out of me. Before I could even start to whine, she was in me again, this time a third finger adding a delicious stretch and her thumb rubbing circles on my clit.

I cried out and then latched onto Lexa's neck, biting down as my orgasm tore through me. I clenched around Lexa's fingers which slowed to a steady rhythm as my body shook below her. Lexa kept slowly pumping, helping me through and bringing me down from my climax. I let go of her neck and instantly sought out her lips, letting her in without a moments hesitation.

Finally my head stopped spinning and I was able to loosen my arm and legs. Every part of me felt heavy but I didn't want to let go of Lexa. She slipped out of me but didn't shift her weight, content with where she was. I held her as my breathing started to resemble something normal, and suddenly all the pain was worth it. Every burn and cut, every bruise and even the hole in my leg, had been worth it when I was in her arms.

“I love you so much, Lexa.” I wasn't surprised when my voice cracked and a tear spilled down the side of my face, but Lexa was. She pulled up so that she could look down at me, holding her weight on one arm and catching the tear before it hit the pillow.  
“Klark,” she kissed me gently and my heart did a backflip before settling again, “I love you too.”

I groaned in protest when she reached back to unhook my legs, causing her to chuckle softly as she rolled off me. Lexa grabbed the discarded fur and threw it over us before pulling me against her, my head resting on her shoulder while she held me. I sighed as she ran her hand through my hair, her fingers working through the curls as she stole sweet kisses.

There was still so much we had to talk about, but I knew it could wait. This right here, was about as perfect a moment as we were going to get and I wanted to enjoy it. I wanted to be held and feel loved. I wanted to let Lexa's strength and warmth chase away the nightmares. In the morning we would have to go back to the real world and all it's harsh realities, but for right now, we were just two normal girls in love.

 

 

 _ **Lexa**_  
Spirits, she was beautiful. I woke up with Clarke's cheek pressed against my breast, her arm locked around my waist in a vice-like grip, as though she were afraid I would disappear in the night. Her legs were tangled with mine and there was a strand of her hair tickling my neck, but I loved every part of it. If I lived through today, this was how I wanted to wake up every morning, my Princess in my arms, baring the marks of our love making.

I sighed, my fingers absently combing through Clarke's golden mane. At noon, I would do battle with Nia. The Ice Queen was skilled, cold and calculated, the monstrosity she called a sword could fell even the most seasoned warriors with one cut. But if I lost today, Skaikru would be slaughtered, the bounty on Clarke would remain, my people would be left at the mercy of Azgeda, and it would hurt Clarke.

It had been the worst feeling, thinking that she was dead. I needed Clarke. We were so much alike and yet so very different. She made me better. Clarke taught me that it was okay to love and hope, that you could use it to make you stronger. I never wanted to feel like my heart had been ripped out again, I could never stand to lose her again. And I never wanted Clarke to feel that pain.

When I had accepted the challenge, I had nothing left to lose, at least nothing personal. There would always be another Natblida to take the position of Heda, it was expected that I die young and violently. But now I had a reason to live. Now I wanted a long peaceful life, now I could imagine living years and years, Clarke by my side. Now I had a reason to fight.

Clarke stirred, moaning as she shifted, squeezing a little tighter before tilting her head and smiling up at me. I smiled back, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers.  
“Good morning.” she said with a shy smile once I had pulled back. Then her face dropped, her brows furrowing, “Lexa, we have to talk...”

 

I managed to convince Clarke to take a bath with me and eat breakfast before we talked. Over breakfast she filled me in on everything she had been doing since the mountain. I couldn't help but be proud of her, even though her prolonged absence he been hard for me, it seemed to have been what she needed at the time and I could respect that. It was when she started talking of the attacks on her that my anger started to rise though.

I got to my feet and started pacing as she explained, slightly in awe at the sheer determination she had. She was worried that I would be upset at her for allowing the Spirit to take control of her body. Not that she said as much, I could just tell by the way she refused to meet my eyes and her voice became soft and uncertain. But she had drawn on a tool to give her the strength her body did not have at the time, it was no different than using a weapon in battle, or riding a horse along a trail.

Once she was finished, I forced myself to stop, walking over to her with slow steps and crouching before her. I took her hands in mine and smiled sadly up at her.  
“I am so sorry about your people, Clarke.” I said, my thumbs running over her knuckles, “I promise that I will do everything I can to get justice for you. And I do know why this has all happened, the camp and you being attacked...”

I was trying to remain as stoic and calm as I could, detached, so that I could tell her about Nia in a way that would prevent her becoming angry or scared. But, as she always has, she saw right through it, worry etching into her features as she looked down at me with her blue eyes.  
“Lexa, what's wrong?” she asked, half suspicous and half nervous. I internally scolded myself as I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts.

“When you defeated the mountain, legend about you started to spread like wildfire.” I explained, unable to meet her eyes and instead staring at her hands. Hand that could create just as easily as they could destroy... “You became known as Wanheda, that translates to-”  
“To Commander of Death.” She finished, nodding her understanding. “One of the warriors called me that while we were fighting.” I couldn't help the swell of pride within me.  
“Yes, it is because you have proven yourself a formidable warrior, as well as a bringer of life. My people believe you have the power to decide who lives and who dies.”  
“That's ridiculous!” she cried, pushing her chair back and jumping to her feet before the pain in her leg could register. She hissed before grudgingly lowering herself back down.

I smirked at her, pushing myself up and perching on the table instead, in case she decided to jump up again and this time knocked me over in the process.  
“But it is not,” I explained, “You defeated an entire army of my warriors from within your ship, you saved the life of two boys who should have died from their wounds, you saved the life of your mother when she was burned badly enough to warrant a mercy killing, you brought back two _Rippa's,_ a feat that was previously impossible, and you blew up a mountain full of enemies after saving hundreds of people. Clarke, the only way my people feel this can all be explained, is through legend.”

Clarke buried her face in her hands, bent over, her elbows on her knees.  
“You make me sound like a hero, Lexa, I'm no hero...” The sorrow and pain in her voice broke my heart and had me on my feet again. I pulled her up, prying her hands from her face and holding her to me.  
“None of us are. But we do what we must for our people, and we be who they need us to be.” She nodded into my shoulder.  
“Okay,” she said with a small sniffle, keeping her arms around my neck when she pulled back in order to see my face, “So, my people were attacked because someone doesn't like that I'm 'Wanheda'?”

“Your people were attacked because Azgeda was organizing a coo, and the fastest way to get allies is to have a common enemy, Skaikru...” I sighed, steadying myself with a deep breath before continuing. “You were attacked because of the bounty that has been put on you. Our culture dictates that if you kill someone you gain their power. Usually that means their position politically, but in your case, it means that the person who kills Wanheda, will become Wanheda.”

I watched as the thoughts raced through her head, emotions playing over her features fleetingly before she settled on anger. She let go of me and stepped back.  
“So someone wants me dead so that they can assume this made up title that I never asked for?” I wanted to comfort her, but I also knew that it probably was not a smart move at the moment. I nodded instead, blinking slowly as I forced a breath in and out.  
“The Ice Queen, Nia, wants power over the coalition, “i explained, “She has challenged me for the right to rule and we will battle today to determine who shall be Heda.”

Clarke froze, her entire body going rigid even as a hand was halfway through her hair. Her eyes had grown wide and her jow had gone slack as she stared at me, her expression unreadble.  
“Klark?” I asked, stepping toward her, my hand coming up to rest on her shoulder. She seemed to gather herself at my touch, her hand falling to her side.  
“What do you mean, battle?” She asked slowly, her eyes piercing through me and causing a lump to grow in my throat.

I smiled as though I were not worried, as though there was no doubts in my mind and pressed a kiss to her forehead before answering.  
“At noon, I will fight Nia. The warrior who lives will prove her worthiness as Heda.”  
“The warrior who lives?” Clarke barked, pushing me a step back, a familiar fire burning in her eyes. It was almost enough to make me want to cringe.

I turned away from her, pacing across the room to wear my armor and weapons were hanging.  
“Clarke, it is our way. My ability to lead was questioned and I must prove to my people that I am still worthy of being their Heda.”  
“By fighting like savages?” Deep down, I knew that Clarke did not see me as a savage, that she could respect our ways even if she did not agree with them. But hearing those words stung like the deepest of cuts and I was glad I was not facing her when my resolve cracked and I flinched.

I spun around, anger and hurt bubbling in my chest, the mask of Heda reflexively slipping into place. Clarke was staring at me, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists and a scowl plastered on her face. It only served to feed my anger.  
“By removing any who dare to challenge my ability, by showing my people that I have no weakness, by reminding them why _ai laik Heda_.” The last sentence came out as a growl and I spun back to my armor and pulled it down, slipping the chest plate over my head in one fluid, practiced motion.

I heard Clarke step closer, but I ignored her footsteps as I pulled the leather straps tight and buckled them in place. It was only when I felt her hands on my shoulder, a touch so gentle and tentative that it hurt, that I sighed and turned to face her. The anger was dulled, something else now at the forefront of her mind.

“What is really bothering you, Clarke?” I asked, letting the tension drain out of my shoulders.  
“What if you lose?...” It is a quiet question, no more than a broken whisper, but it is enough to take hold of my heart and clench around it. She is not truly angry, I realized, maybe a little hurt, but mostly scared. I understand her fear, if it were her, I would feel the same, but I was going to be fine, there was no way Nia was going to defeat me.

“Klark, you do not have to worry, I will not lose.” She shook her head, her eyes pleading with me.  
“There has to be another way, there's always another way.”  
“Not this time, hodness.” I searched her face for understanding, wanting her to accept that this was the best way to handle the situation. But I could tell that she was not ready to do so. It hurt, but I would not force her into anything.

She started backing toward the door and I closed my eyes for a long second to fight off the tears prickling behind my eyes.  
“I want you to be there...” I admitted in a small voice, feeling naked as she shook her head again.

“I-I can't” she breathed, “You can't ask me to watch you die...” I lowered my eyes and nodded once in understanding. I did not try to stop her as she fled my room, leaving the door open and disappearing down the hall.

It felt as though my chest had been pried open. The pain was deep and severe, tears rolling down my cheeks. Love hurt, I told myself as I slid on my vambrace's, but it was worth it in the end. I would not die today, if only to protect the heart of my SkaiPrisa.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put the fight with Nia in this chapter but as you can see it was already long enough, so i had to cut it short.  
> But i hope you enjoyed this update, don't forget to leave your comments and kudos.


	7. I Will Not Lose Today

_**Clarke Griffin  
**_ I left Lexa's room, a whirlwind of emotions making my mind spin as I moved down the hall, stopping at the door to my own rooms. It was my fault that she was fighting the Ice Queen, she hadn't said it in so many words, but I was the reason. Every time I had been faced with a problem, I had found a way out of it, but she was telling me there was no other way. If I believed that then I would have to accept that Lexa may die today, and it would be my fault.

The door opened soundlessly and I slipped through, leaning against the wood as it clicked closed again. It looked the same at first glance, the entrance with it's oak buffet, the large room with a lounge set around the fireplace and a king-sized bed on a platform to the right. A desk was in one corner and double glass doors led out to a balcony. It was familiar and almost comforting to smell the rose scented steam issuing from the bathroom.

But as I looked around I started noticing the differences. The bed was unmade, clothes that were definitely from the Ark crumpled at the end as though they had been discarded recently. There were old bandages piled on the coffee table beside an open med kit and a tray of bread and fruit. And over at the desk, hunched over some large papers, was Raven Reyes.

She looked over her shoulder when she heard the door and when she saw me her eyes opened wide and a shit eating grin spread across her face.  
“Princess,” she beamed, abandoning the desk and starting to limp over to me. I met her halfway, letting her pull me inyo a tight hug while I fought back tears. “I told Lexa you'd pull through just fine.”

I pulled back, smiling despite my reeling thoughts, happier than I thought I would be to see my friend.  
“It takes more than a couple of cuts to keep me down.” I said the cocky words, but my heart clearly wasn't in it and the delivery was flat. Raven had the decency to ignore that fact, patting me on the shoulder before turning back toward the desk.  
“Your mom's in the bathroom, she'll be out as soon as she hears-”

“Raven, are you talking to yourself again?” I turned to look back at the doorway leading into the bathroom when I heard the voice. My body had a strange reaction, like elation and fury rolled into one, my stomach twisting into knots while my heart became light in my chest. She saw me at the exact same moment that I saw her and she froze just inside the room.

It was obvious that her body wasn't even nearly healed, fresh bandages wrapped around her entire torso. Her left hand was bandaged too, though I knew it should be encased in plaster, and there was a brace similar to Ravens on her left leg. The cut on her cheek was now just a faint pink line, but she shouldn't even be out of bed, let alone walking around on what I knew to be a broken leg.

“Clarke...” She breathed as she looked me over, smiling through tears that were welling in her eyes. I knew I was far better off than she was, even though she had probably been the one to patch me up the night before.  
“Hey mom...”

I let her walk up to me, kept myself from cringing when she took hold of my arms and stared into my eyes. Then I let her pull me close, resting my head against her chest and allowing myself this one moment of comfort. I had not been able to enjoy a moment with my mother for nearly two years, and even though I was furious at the way she had used me, sometimes you just need your mom...

We stayed that way for a long time, Raven studiously ignoring us as she continued to survey her papers.  
“I knew you were alive,” My mom croaked, her voice thick with unshed tears, “I told Marcus that the chip would keep you alive, even if a mountain fell on you.”

That's what had me wrenching away from her, hissing at the spike of pain through my leg caused by the sudden movement. She looked hurt and I heard Raven's intake of breath at my mom's words, the mechanic knowing things were about to get... uncomfortable.  
“About that _chip_.” I spat, taking a step away from my mom, turning away from her hurt and confused expression.  
“You know what,” Raven chimed from behind us, “I think I'll go downstairs and find O, leave you two to talk.” She gently squeezed my shoulder when she walked past me, offering me her silent support.

I paced away from my mom, looking out the windows at the sun that was already more than halfway into the morning sky. My fingers snaked up to run over the faint scar at the nape of my neck, the all too familiar prickling shooting into my head. I grit my teeth, trying to keep my thoughts straight.  
“Clarke, baby-”  
“Stop that.” I breathed, spinning to face her once again, “Stop acting like you care.”  
“Of course I care, Clarke, I'm your mother.”

A tight ball of anger coiled in my chest and I wanted to yell. I took a deep breath, scolding myself for acting like a self rightous teenager.  
“Then why would you put an artificial intelligence in my head that _takes over_ my body?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. She stared at me, her mouth hanging open just slightly, and it only made me angrier. “Not only was I shot down to the ground in a hundred year old space ship and forced to fight and kill to survive, but I find out that my own mother was the reason I had to watch as my own hands tried to kill the woman I love.” My voice had steadily risen to a shout.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, as though she wanted to say something, but couldn't quite form the words.  
“It's changed everything about me, mom!” I growled out through my teeth, “I suddenly speak a new language, I'm twirling around with swords like I was born doing it, my blood is as black as ink and I heal so quickly I barely have time to register that I'm hurt.”  
“Those changes are meant to keep you safe...” the words are barely audible over the rushing pulse in my ears, “We were told that before it would be safe to come down, the enemy needed to be found and killed.”

I threw my hands up, my eyes flashing with rage.  
“How could we have had enemies when we didn't even know there was anyone down here?” I asked with a frustrated groan, “This A.I that you put in me was a way for a scientist to settle a personal vendetta against the mentor who abandoned her. It wasn't made to be some kind of saving grace.” My mother shook her head, unwilling to believe me.  
“No, Clarke, no. It was created when a scientist lost her mind and went rogue. She had an A.I of her own and... and...”  
“And what, mom?” I scoffed, “What was this rogue scientist going to do to us one humdred years later on a deserted planet? Did you even think, or were you just doing what you were told?”

She stepped back as though I had hit her, shock plastered onto her face, her eyes glazing slightly as her mind went over everything.  
“Oh my gods...” She breathed after a long moment. I shook my head and turned away, looking out over Polis. “Clarke, I'm sorry.... I swear, I didn't know what it would do to you, only that it would change you. It was supposed to save us all.” She sounded small and it pulled painfully on my aching heart. I sighed, not yet able to look at her.  
“Just take it out.” I pleaded, bracing myself and looking over at my shoulder at her, “It's a great piece of technology, but it is intent on killing Lexa. It takes over my body and I have no control. Just take it out, please.”

Her face dropped and she squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitching and her right hand starting to fiddle with the bandage on her left.  
“I-I can't, Clarke.” She admitted, her voice cracking around my name. My brows shot into my hairline and a new wave of anger flew through my veins as I rounded on her.  
“What the hell do you mean, you can't?” I demanded, “I love her and all my body wants to do is kill her! You have to!”  
“It's not that I don't want to, Clarke!” she shouted back, imploring me to understand, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “I mean I can't. The chip connects directly to your nervous system so that it can access your mind. If I take it out then you will be paralyzed at best, dead at worst. You can't ask me to do that.”

I stumbled away from her, walking around to sit on the sofa, finding it hard to breathe. There was an odd ringing in my head and an uncomfortable pressure on my skull. Every nerve was tingling, my limbs far too light.

If my mom couldn't take this damn thing out of my head then no one could. That meant I was stuck with it. I would always have to worry about whether or not I could stay in control. Every time I became weak or vulnerable, Lexa would have to fight for her life and I would have to watch helplessly. I couldn't help the sobs that worked their way through my chest. Tears started to fall and I let them, burying my face in my hands.

The cushion beside me depressed under my mom's weight, her hand tentatively reaching out to start rubbing soothing circles on my back. I had hoped, I had dared to hope that one day I wouldn't have to worry about being around Lexa. I had dared to hope that one day we could have peace and that fantasy where Lexa and I were just two normal girls in love, wouldn't be so far fetched.

Now everything was all wrong. Lexa was going to fight to the death with someone known as the Ice Queen, I would never be able to keep my promise to find a way to get rid of my _Spirit_... And there were countless other problems. Azgeda kidnapping or killing a camp full of people, Lexa's coalition turning on her, the clans uniting to destroy Skaikru as a whole...

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm, letting the warmth of my mom's hand spread through me. There was work to do, I realized. I couldn't sit here and cry just because things weren't going my way. My people still needed me, Lexa needed me.

Maybe my life would always be like this now, a constant struggle to survive. But I wasn't alone and I had people that relied on me, people I wanted and needed to protect. Just like I didn't want to go through a war alone, neither did Lexa. She wanted me at this battle today so that she didn't feel alone, so that she could borrow my strength when she needed it the most. I was terrified that she would lose, but I loved her and I had to be there for her.

I looked at my mom, trying to memorize her face. She gave me a small smile and I sighed deeply before taking her bandaged hand between mine.  
“Mom, I don't know if I can forgive you.” I admitted softly, “But I will try.” She nodded once  
“I understand, maybe Raven and I can figure out a way to reprogram it...”  
“It doesn't matter right now.” I blinked slowly before continuing, “You have to trust me right now. Our people aren't safe here any more. This afternoon it could get even worse and everyone has to be well on their way to safety before then.”  
“Wait what? What are you talking about, Clarke?” my mom asked in obvious confusion. “Where would we even go?”  
“The drop ship. Get everyone there as quickly as you can, replace the front walls, barricade yourselves in there until you hear from me.”

Her eyes opened wide and she got to her feet with a sharp intake of breath.  
“Your not coming? Clarke, what the hell is going on?” I sighed and rubbed at my eyes, already feeling drained and it wasn't even noon yet. I glanced at the sun's progress before standing up.  
“No, there is something I have to do first. I need you to trust me and keep our people safe until I can get back to you, mom. I can't be in two places at once...”  
“I just got you back and you want me to leave you behind again?”

I smiled a real smile now, resting my hand over my sheathed sword.  
“I'm not the kid that you loaded into the drop ship any more, mom.” I explained almost gently, “I have been keeping my friends safe, I've had to grow up and become a leader. I think you have to realize that the Clarke you knew isn't coming back.”

 

The streets were filled with people, all heading in one direction toward the ring that had been set up in the middle of Polis. I was wearing a hooded cloak, well aware that if I was seen by anyone who was interested in the bounty, things could get very messy. It was almost noon, the sun beating down from directly above the city, and I had to get to the field before the fight started.

I pushed and elbowed my way past big burly warriors and sticky-fingered kids, careful to keep my face hidden and my right hand on the hilt of my sword. I needed Lexa to see me. I knew that if she just saw me then the dread in the pit of my stomach would finally dissipate.

Then I broke through one final layer of sweaty bodies and had to pull myself up abruptly before I could tumble into the cordoned off area. A stage had been set up of to one side, the remaining eleven clan leaders all seated on it. On the other side stood a tall blonde, dressed in thick grey and white furs and twirling a blue sword through the air.

But standing not three paces from me was the Commander, dressed in all her armor, her deep red cape billowing out from her pauldron, her war paint in place and her sword held loosely in her hand. She was every bit the angel of death she had been when I first saw her. A beautiful vision that didn't seem entirely real, and it was enough to make my heart pick up a thuderous pace in my chest.

 

 _ **Lexa**_  
I had gotten ready much slower than I usually do, taking estra care with each piece of armor, painting on my kohl as perfectly as I could, and braiding my hair in tight intricate patterns. I was nervous, but not for the fight. Something else was nagging at me, making my arms and legs too heavy, clouding my mind with doubts and worries. I sharpened and polished my sword, but once that was done there was nothing else to stall with.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I strode from my chambers, my head held high, like Heda should. Four guards joined me when I stepped off the elevator, closing ranks. It was meant to stop people from attacking either side before the challenge, but really it was to prevent either side from running. That was not a danger with me, but I did not voice this, allowing the warriors to escort me through the city.

People called out to me as I passed them and whenever I could I offered a nod of my head or a clasp of the forearm. I was still their Heda and I would act as such. Though the journey was much too short for my liking because before long the warriors ushered me into a large ring, spear wielding guards at six foot intervals all the way around.

I could feel the heat from the sun and closed my eyes, letting the warmth fill me as I toned out the noise from the gathering crowds. My right hand closed around my sword and I pulled it free, my eyes still closed as I unbuckled the sheath from my belt and tossed it out of the ring. I didn't open my eyes as I started working through some basic techniques, warming and stretching my muscles and trying to clear my mind.

But one thing kept appearing on the back of my eyelids. _Klark..._ I did not want her to have to watch me get hurt or even die, but I felt that I would be so much stronger if she were here with me. For the first time, I wanted someone's support, a foreign feeling to me. I had to open my eyes and banish my conjured image to keep from tearing up.

I slashed my sword through the air, slicing the wind, and thats when I caught a glimmer of golden hair in the corner of my eye. I froze midway, forcing myself to take a breath before lowing my blade and slowly looking to my side. Sure enough, standing at the very front of the crowd, wearing a dark hooded cloak, was my Clarke.

She nodded at me almost grimly but it did not stop my heart from soaring, the heaviness that had settled over me lifting in an instant. I smiled at her as I took two steps to stop right in front of her. I wanted to reach out, to stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles and pull her into a searing kiss. But I knew that would have to wait, it was still dangerous for her to be seen.  
“I am glad you came.” I managed to say, my voice barely more than a whisper on an exhale of air. But it did not matter, she heard it, the corner of her lip quirking up momentarily.  
“Me too.”

It was all I would need, the sight of her face and those two little words. I felt the strength flood through my body, a fierce determination filling me as I turned to face Nia.Not only have the Ice Queen taken my first love from me and insulted my ability to lead, but she has threatened Clarke and that is not something I can tolerate. Azgeda's Queen would die today by my hand, and I would enjoy it.

We walked into the center of the field. Traditionally, both parties would nod or bow, or show some sign of respect when they met. But when Nia merely cocked her head to the side and stared down at me as though she were looking at something particularly disgusting on the bottom of her shoe, I couldn't help but smirk at her. I saw the flash of anger in her eyes before she could hide it and my smirk widened. She thought she could play mind games with me, unsettle me so that I made stupid mistakes, but I was no goufa in their first sparring match.

We each took three steps back, leaving a wide space between us, both our swords ready by our sides. I studied her monstrous blade once more. It was four feet long with one sharpened edge, the steel dyed an icey blue color and the handle made of bleached bone. But the most dangerous part of it was the top foot of metal which was a serrated edge. I also had no doubt that it was treated in some kind of Azgeda poison, hence the legends behind it.

The horn blew one long continuous note to signal noon and the battle began.

Normally, I would circle my opponent, try to get them to reveal weaknesses and then work to exploit them. In most cases it was the smartest and most effective strategy. But I knew the queen would be doing the same thing, that she was a calculated fighter and the longer she had to study my usual technique, the easier she would find it to defeat me. So as soon as the horn blew I launched myself forward, ducking under her right arm before popping up inside her guard and driving the palm of my left hand into her nose.

Nia reeled back, spluttering around the blood now flowing freely from her broken nose. She swung at me but I had already danced away, wiping her blood off on my pants and spinning my sword once to loosen my wrist. The Ice Queen spat out a mouthful of blood and smiled over at me, sinking back into a slight crouch.

This time when I lunged forward it was sword first, but Nia's blade knocked mine aside and she tried to step into my guard. Suddenly faced with seven foot of fur covered woman, I crouched down low, sweeping my leg behind hers before trying to roll out of the way of her falling body. I was almost in the clear before she caught my right ankle and yanked me back toward her.

I kicked out, my left foot connecting with her shoulder and then her face. A feral hiss filled the air and she released her hold on me.i couldn't help the short burst of laughter that bubbled up in my chest, my body practically buzzing at the joy of exerting myself.

But Nia did not like that and when she pushed herself to her feet she was glaring at me with pure hatred. I readied my sword again, hoping her height wouldn't get her too much leverage against me. But I was not prepared for the lightening quick flurry of attacks that she unleashed on me, her long, heavy sword cutting through the air much faster than should have been possible.

I jumped backwards to dodge the first sweep of her steel, but had to parry the next two, letting them glance off my blade and twisting my body out of their paths. A fourth swing came from overhead and I only just lifted my sword in time to catch hers, the serrated grove stopping it from slipping off the edge. Nia grinned wildly and pushed against me, gaining inch by inch. She forced me to one knee under the weight of her and her sword, my arm trembling with the effort to keep her from slicing through my face.

I growled, letting out a strangled cry as I took the end of my sword in my left hand, the sharp metal instantly cutting into flesh and pushed up. The queens eyes bulged in disbelief and she went to redouble her efforts. But in that split second when her weight lifted ever so slightly from the blade, I pushed up with all my strength, making enough room for me to pull my sword free of her serrated teeth and throw myself backwards. Nia's sword crashed into the packed earth, lodging a few inches into the ground.

Rolling to my feet, I moved forward to press my advantage, but was met with a solid kick to the chest before Nia managed to pull her sword free and swing it toward me again. Still dazed from the hit, I did not move in time and I screamed as it felt ice cold steel slice straight through my armor and cut into the flesh between two ribs.

Hot black blood spilled from the wound the moment she pulled her sword out. I felt every jagged tooth as it dragged through my side, the pain enough to have me falling to my knees. My vision swam and I felt as though I would lose my breakfast at any moment, tendrils of ice punching through my chest, originationg at the wound.

Nia stepped closer to me, laughing. She placed a booted foot on my right shoulder and pushed, sending me sprawling onto my back with a ragged cry. My shaking hand pressed feebly against the torn flesh on my left side, the spreading ice making it nearly impossible to breathe. The Ice Queen loomed over me, holding her sword above my head.  
“Like I said, _girl_ , you are unfit to lead.” She gloated, “Nou Heda, Nou Mou!”

It was as though the world slowed to a standstill. My head turned, my eyes scanning the crowd, not knowing what I was looking for until my eyes locked onto the most beautiful of blues. I could see her golden curls beneath her hood, the panicked and frightened look in her eyes. I could swear I could hear her heart hammering against her chest, feel the hot tears about to fall from her eyes.

Clarke... My Klark... My SkaiPrisa...

She was everything to me, just as I was everything to her. If I died now, laying prone on the floor, it would break her. She was strong, I had no doubt she was strong enough to recover... but I did not want her to have to be that strong. I did not want to leave her. I wanted countless years by her side. She was the reason that I had hope for my people. I was not just Heda when I was with her, I was something so much more and my people could only ever benefit from that.

I would not lose today.

Time sped back up as Nia's mighty blade started to fall. I pulled my legs over my head, summersaulting backwards into a crouch and knocking the sword away at the same time. The sudden move was surprising enough to make the queen lose her grip and send the blue sword sliding through the dust. She tried to dive after it but I grabbed a fistful of her pale blonde hair, pulling sharply.

It was not enough to make the giant woman fall, but it did throw her off balance. Panting heavily and adjusting my grip on my sword, I stepped right up to her and sank my blade slowly into her stomach. With my left hand I clasped her shoulder and pulled her body against mine, feeling as my sword punctured through her back.

I could feel her dying where she stood and reached behind her neck, pulling her head down far enough that I could whisper into her ear.  
“That was for Costia,” I then twisted my sword and pulled it up two inches, “And that is for Clarke.”

I let go of her then, stepping back and pulling my blade free with an almost graceful flourish. Nia stared at me for one more second before her eyes glazed over, the life leaving her body, and she crumpled to the ground.  
“Yu gonplei ste odon.” I growled, turning to face the raised stage. I met the gaze of each man or woman before sheathing my sword and raising my voice so that it would echo around the city center “Ai laik Heda!”

I then turned away from everyone, wanting to see just one person, wanting to take her in my arms and crush her to me, to meld our lips together in a fiery kiss before I passed out from pain and blood loss.

But Clarke was not standing where she had been only minutes before. I spun in a frantic circle, searching the faces in the crowd, an unreasonable panic starting to invade my mind. She would not have just left, would she?

Then I saw her, her hood pulled down and a scowl twisting her beautiful features. It took an extra second for me to register that the people had gone silent, all previous roars of victory gone. That Clarke was standing in front of the stage and she was not alone. And that pressed against her pale neck, was a small dagger dyed an icy blue...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much anticipated fight between Nia and Lexa. I hope it doesn't disappoint, i am sick again and heavily drugged with pain killers right now, so I'm going to blame any problems you find on that :P  
> Still i hope you enjoy this update and please don't forget to comment, it makes me feel so warm and fuzzy to read a good comment...  
> Maybe i should lay off the pain meds...


	8. Capable Of Rescuing Herself

_**Lexa  
**_ The sight of that blade against Clarke's neck chilled me to the bone. I did not feel the burn from the jagged tear between my ribs, I did not feel the icy tendrils of poison that were spreading steadily through my chest. All I saw was a blinding red rage held at bay by the single bead of midnight black blood staining the tip of the icy blue metal.

With great effort I forced my eyes to travel past Clarke's shoulder, gritting my teeth around the growl that wanted to rip from my throat, to land on a young woman sporting the tell-tale scars that marked her as Azgeda. She was only as tall as Clarke, no older than the blonde, but that was where the similarities ended. Her hair was so dark it was almost black, her eyes only a shade lighter than Nia's had been, and her body nothing but feminine curves defined by tight muscle.

“Release Wanheda, Azgeda.” I snarled, my body tensed and ready to strike. The girl laughed, digging her dagger further into Clarke's skin. The blonde gasped, rage burning in her sapphire eyes.  
“I don't think so, _Heda_.” the warrior almost purred, closing her teeth around Clarke's ear lobe and biting at the skin hard enough to draw blood. The action was not only causing Clarke pain, but it was an intimate act and my body stepped forward without permission.

“Ah ah ah,” the ice nation woman tutted, cutting further into Clarke's skin. I stopped, unwilling to risk Clarke's life for my own pride. “That's a good little Commander, thinking of your Sky Whore.” This time I did growl, my mind judging the distance between us, wondering if I was fast enough to make it before this bitch could react.

Clarke did not appreciate the insult either, tightening the grip she had on the woman's wrist and relieving the pressure on her neck enough to slip her hand behind the blade. It cut into her palm as the girl regained control and she cried out as she attempted to twist out of the hold. But the warrior was well trained, flexing her arm to secure her grip before knocking Clarke's knee's out from under her, the blonde falling to the ground and now kneeling in front of her captor.

“Klark!” I lunged forward but before I could reach the pair, a group of four Ice Nation guards had blocked the way, each brandishing sharp weapons. I stopped, my side screaming with pain and fresh blood spilling over my armor. I was in no condition to fight off four men at once and still free Clarke, the poison in my blood was starting to constrict my chest and I would die if I did not treat it soon. “What do you want?” I spat past the men.

The young beauty grinned wide, confident that she had at least won the battle, which I reminded myself, she had.  
“Why, I simply want what is rightfully mine.” she said gleefully, gesturing around her with one arm, “I want to be Heda.”

I almost laughed, settling instead for an arched brow and a condescending smirk.  
“Only a Natblida may be Heda, Azgeda.” I scoffed, “The flame will kill any other that try's to take the title.” If I expected the woman to be shocked or angry, or to have some ridiculous plot to find her way around this problem, I was disappointed when she only continued to smile at me. Instead she took her dagger from it's resting place at Clarke's neck and held it to her own bare forearm.

I watched as the point sunk into flesh and she dragged it across her skin, opening her arm. Black blood spilled from the wound, dripping down her arm in thin lines, falling into the dirt below and staining the earth. My heart stopped as I watched, not even seeing that Clarke had used the distraction to move out from under the woman.

It shouldn't be possible. All Natblida's were collected when they were children so that they could be properly trained, removed from their clan so that they would not hold any preference. But if Nia had been hiding this girl since her birth, training her as she saw fit, teaching her to put the Ice Nation first... this was the Ice Queen's plan all along. She had wanted me out of the way so that she could put this woman on the throne.

All the other Natblida's were still children, they would not stand a chance in a conclave against her. And now that Nia had fallen, she was going to take matters into her own hands. But what did she expect, that she could hold Clarke prisoner and I would kneel down and let them remove the flame to save her life? First of all, I would not put all my people in the hands of a power hungry dictator in order to save the life of one woman, even if it was the one person I cared most about. And secondly, Clarke was more than capable of rescuing herself.

A fact which she chose that moment to prove.

Her right leg stuck out and, her hands on the ground for support, she spun herself. The woman noticed a second too late that she had left herself vulnerable and was not quick enough to avoid being swept off her feet. The guards started to react but Clarke did not waste a moment of her advantage, launching herself at the dark haired woman and attempting to pry the dagger from her hand.

As soon as the warriors turned their backs, I lunged forward, pulling my sword free and slicing clean through one mans neck in one fluid motion. Ignoring the wrenching in my side, I spun to the left and cut a second from shoulder to hip, red blood splattering across me and the ground in equal measure.

I sunk to one knee then, the pain lancing up and down my left side, black spots dancing in my vision, my sword the only thing preventing me from falling forward. One of the remaining warriors was standing over me, ready to drive his heavy war axe through my skull. I tried to gather the strength for one final attack, one more awe inspiring move that would end this traitors life and give my SkaiPrisa a fighting chance, but my body would not respond.

With a sinking feeling in my gut I looked up at the Azgeda warrior, banishing all but one thought from my mind, because if I was going to die, then Clarke would be the last thing I thought of as I did.

 

 _ **Clarke Griffin  
**_ Grappling with a girl made of pure muscle is one of my least favorite activities. It is a fact I could have gone my whole life without figuring out. I was straddling the Ice Nation woman, struggling to pry the dagger from her grasp. We were both covered in her blood which was helping me because she couldn't find enough purchase to break my grip.

I was faintly aware of Lexa fighting the other Ice Nation goons but was distracted by a blood slicked fist connecting with my jaw. The pain shot up my jaw, my teeth clashing painfully together, silencing my grunt of pain. The woman beneath me tried to use the moment to thrash, but my knees locked on her waist, keeping me in place. I smiled down at her, the metallic taste of blood coating my mouth. Then my left fist collided with her nose, and I could feel a satisfying crunch.

Before I could revel in the almost dazed look that crossed her face there was an odd chill that raced through my chest, the base of my skull prickling uncomfortably. My head snapped around, expecting to find myself in imminent danger. But what I saw was Lexa, kneeling, leaning all her weight on her sword and staring up at the deadly axe about to fall on her head.

The world stopped, my mind taking in every detail; the half-dazed woman beneath me, the bloody dagger in my hand, the large man striding toward me with his sword glinting in the sunlight, the warrior about to kill Lexa... And Lexa, my beautiful Commander, torn and shredded, an almost peaceful smirk, _my_ smirk, on her face as she waiting for the killing blow.

Dread rocketed through me and my body reacted of its own accord. My right arm pulled back and then cracked forward, the dagger spinning from my hand and sinking to the hilt in the back of the axe wielders skull. I had already reached my left hand down to my boot, sliding one of my own thin blades free, and thrown that one too, when I registered my first target freezing mid action. The axe slipped from his grasp, the weight letting it fall behind him almost comically, hitting the packed earth. Then the man fell too, limp and lifeless, he tumbled forward, right on top of Lexa.

I could feel the second heart beat start in my chest, slow and barely there. In my panic I was losing control. I watched the second warrior drop, my dagger buried in his chest, trying to calm my thundering heart. If I lost control now I would end up killing Lexa, she had no way to defend herself from me, and those watching didn't seem in any hury to help their Heda. So I focused on the heart beat feebly pumping seemingly beside my own, I focused on the warmth and love that spread through me with every thought of her. And I forced myself to move.

In one fluid motion, ignoring the searing burn in my leg, I rose to my feet. The Ice Nation girl beneath me tried to stop me, her fingers wrapping around my boot, but I dropped the heel of my left foot against her temple and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Satisfied that she was sufficiently incapacitated, I wrenched my ankle from her loosened grip and walked slowly over to where Lexa lay beneath the burly warrior.

There was utter silence around me, as though every single person was holding their breath. I could hear shouting in the distance, familiar war drums beating in a rhythm that was all wrong, but my world was zeroed in on one thing; Lexa. When I reached the first fallen warrior, I didn't bother going around him, I simply stepped up and over him, refusing to wince as my weight landed heavily on the way down.

By the time I was standing by the axe wielder, I was confident the A.I was completely under control, flexing my fingers a few times just to make sure. I could see Lexa, unconscious under the mans immense weight, her sword still gripped loosely in her right hand. Bending my knees, I dug deep, gathering every bit of unnatural strength I had, locking my hands in the warriors furs and heaving him to the side.

People were starting to move and murmur, the drums nearly unbearably loud, obviously well within the city limits. But I couldn't and wouldn't tear my gaze away from Lexa's battered body. She always looked so formidable, so in charge, big and bad enough to take on the world. But right now, like this, black blood still seeping from the jagged tear in her left side, she looked small and fragile. All I wanted to do was wrap her in my arms and protect her from the world.

I rolled her to her back, brushing her long braids out of her face with trembling fingers. It was wrong, her being like this. Steadying myself with a deep breath, I took her sword, sliding it through my own belt, before tearing a long thick strip from my cloak and tying it around her torso. It wouldn't do much to stop the bleeding, but it was better than nothing.

“Clarke, we must move, Azgeda marches on Polis.” The voice was familiar, but I still spun around abruptly. Standing behind me, weapons drawn were two men, Lincoln and Nyko. I stared at them blankly for a moment as the words sank in... Azgeda... maching...

It was like a slap in the face when my mind finally caught up and I nodded, turning back to Lexa and crouching so that I could sling her arm over my shoulder. Nyko put his bow over his own shoulder and rushed to the Commander's other side, taking her other arm. With a grunt and a shaky start, I pushed myself up, Nyko doing the same, Lexa held up between us. Her head lolled onto my shoulder an indecipherable whisper escaping her cracked lips.

My attention was divided between Lexa, my own feet, and Lincoln who was making a path through the throng of people. He was moving quickly and my muscles protested with the effort of keeping up. If the Ice Nation was still intent on attacking, even after Lexa had won this stupid fight fair and square, then I had to get her out of here. We could come back once she had healed. We would regroup and live to fight another day, it's the choice Lexa would make if she could... at least I hope it is.

Lincoln led us out of the pressing crowds, weaving through the labyrinth of side streets and alley ways until we flew down a steep flight of stone steps and into a dark tunnel. It was then, finally out of the hot sun, that my body started to give out and I stumbled. Nyko called to Lincoln and both men came to a stop.

I hated myself for it, but as soon as my feet and legs were no longer pushing me forward, I slid to the floor, grateful that Nyko took Lexa's weight and carefully lowered her to the ground beside me. I was breathing heavily, my body not nearly as well healed as I needed it to be. The bandage around my right hand was soaked black, and from the wet stickiness around my thigh, I knew the wound in my leg had reopened too.

Lincoln knelt down in front of me, a gentle smile on his face as he offered me a water skin. I accepted, nodding my thanks before rinsing the blood from my mouth. The warrior then stood back up and went to the stairs, watching for anyone that could be following us.

As I drank deeply from the water skin, Nyko was checking Lexa's wound. He hissed sympathetically, his fingers pressing into the bloody tear before he brought them to his nose and sniffed. When he then stuck out his tongue and tasted it I had to suppress a cringe. But the moment it touched his taste buds he was spitting it out again, snatching the water from me and washing it from his mouth.

“Poison,” he growled in explanation, digging through his bag frantically, “Azgeda toxin known as 'Frozen Death'.” Nyko took out three vials, each with a different color liquid in them; one amber, one green, and one a vibrant pink. Then came a small pestle and mortar and a bag of glowing seeds.

There was a lump in the pit of my stomach, my hand having clasped onto Lexa's subconsciously as I watched Nyko work. A handful of the seeds were crushed into a fine powder with impressive speed and then he added the liquids in varying amounts, creating a paste. He fished another vial from his bag, this one filled with a thick, clear substance, and handed it to me.  
“Pour the whole thing down her throat.” he ordered, digging the paste out of the bowl. I didn't waste time asking questions, opening Lexa's jaw after uncorking the glass vial and tipping the contents into her mouth. Nyko smeared the paste over Lexa's wound, making sure it was completely covered and then wrapped her in a clean bandage.

I watched as the tension left his shoulders, as he looked around at Lincoln, nodding slowly. I wanted to ask if Lexa was going to be okay, I needed to hear that she was going to pull through, but I couldn't get my voice to work. Nyko seemed to pick up on it though, catching my eyes and smiling beneath his thick facial hair.  
“She will live, Clarke. But we must still get to safety.”

It was like finally surfacing from water to breath, an impossible weight lifting off my shoulders. I looked at her face, almost peaceful in her unconscious state. There was blood and sweat marring her skin, but she would always be incomparably beautiful to me. I wanted to see the deep forest green of her eyes, needed it like I needed air. But I could wait, I would wait forever for Lexa.

 

I had expected my escorts to lead me out of the city, that we would leave the tunnels behind and emerge into the forest. But we walked through the concrete maze for hours, Lincoln and Nyko carrying Lexa on a makeshift stretcher. I hoped that my mother had managed to get everyone out of the city before noon, all I could do was hope that my people were safe.

Lincoln explained that the Ice Nation had been waiting in the trees outside of Polis and upon hearing that their Queen had fallen, they had entered the city.  
“They were led by Roan, Prince Roan, but I suppose he is King now...” he said, adjusting his grip on the stretcher, “They never intended for Heda to keep her throne.” there was a definate angry growl behind his words now and it sent a surge of affection through me. It was good to know that there were people who would always respect Lexa and remain loyal, it meant that even if I couldn't always be there, someone else would.

When we finally stopped, it was at a obscenely large set of mahogany doors that were sporting intricate designs that looked as though they had been burned into the wood. My jaw dropped as I studied the swirls and curves, the subtle pictures of trees and buildings, a billowing cloud sweeping over the earth. It was abstract enough that the pictures weren't obvious and it only made it all the more wonderous.

I could have stood there staring for hours, but Nyko and Lincoln pushed through the doors and we entered a large chamber. After carefully putting Lexa on the floor, both men moved around the room and started lighting torches and candles. A soft glow started to fill the room and it reminded me so thoroughly of Lexa's own chambers that it stole my breath for a second.

I sank down beside her, bending over her, my hair falling around us like a wall to separate us from the rest of the world. I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing in the smell that could only be described as _Lexa_. Then I moved down, pressing my lips softly to her dry ones, needing the closeness, needing to feel her.

Just as I was about to pull away, a sigh ready to escape my chest, a hand reached up and pressed down on the back of my head and chapped lips opened, deepening the kiss. I gasped in surprise but quickly sank into it, a warm thrill shooting straight through my body. I could feel hot tears behind my eyes and couldn't help but smile into the kiss, joy overflowing as I swallowed a moan from the Commander's throat.

When we finally broke apart, it was only because of the need to breathe. In the back of my mind I was aware of Lincoln and Nyko speaking in low tones at the back of the room, but I only had eyes for Lexa.  
“Why is it,” I started with a small smirk, “that one of us always seems to be fighting for our lives?” She let out an amused bark that evolved quickly into a coughing fit.

As carefully as I could, I guided her into a sitting position, keeping my hand on the small of her back as her body shook. Within seconds someone was pushing a full water skin into Lexa's hand and I looked up to thank either Nyko or Lincoln. But it wasn't one of the two men that was standing over us,a look of concern etched into his too young face.

“Xander?” I asked in disbelief, rubbing soothing circles on Lexa's back as she sipped at the water. The boy smiled at me, it was restrained but genuine, and it pulled a matching grin from me.  
“Hello, Clarke.” he gave me the usual grounder nod of respect, it looked strange coming from a child.  
“What are you doing here?” the question slipped from me without thought, my mind already sure a young boy shouldn't be in the middle of this mess, “Where are your brother and sisters? How did you get here, do you know how dangerous this is?”

Xander's eyes opened wide in surprise before his brows knitted together in a blend of anger and frustration. He opened his mouth, probably to yell at me, when a large heavy hand came down on his shoulder and he thought better of it. I looked up to find Lincoln standing … proudly... behind him, a smile curving his lips.  
“I have taken Xander as my seken, Clarke.” He explained, “Where I go, he goes.”

It was my turn to widen my eyes in surprise, my eyebrows shooting up.  
“He's just a kid, Lincoln. There are people running around with real weapons, they want me dead, they want Lexa dead. Don't you know how dangerous it is to have a kid here?”

They both looked ready to argue their case, and I was more than ready to argue back. But a gentle hand came to rest over mine and my eyes shot to Lexa's, my mouth snapping shut as concern won out. She smiled at me and I melted into a puddle right their, the boy and the man completely forgotten. Lincoln seemed to notice that this was going to be a private moment and steered Xander back over to Nyko, leaving me locked in Lexa's gaze.

“Klark,” she croaked through a raw throat, “It is our way, niron.” I looked down to our hands, turning mine so that I could lace my fingers with hers, her touch like the most pleasant of burns on my skin.  
“But, he's just a boy Lexa...” She took her other hand, using two fingers to lift my chin and catch my eyes, shattering my resolve with that smirk, _my_ smirk.  
“And when you and your people hurtled to the ground, where you not just children?” She asked, her hand moving around to cup my face, her thumb tracing over my cheekbone. “Yet you became strong, you became capable, you learnt to protect those you care for. Does young Xander not deserve the same chance?”

She was right, in one regard. Xander deserved the chance to try. He grew up on the ground, this was the life he knew, this is how things were supposed to be for him.

But I had been through the terrible struggles, the haunting trials, that had made me so 'strong'. I had been forced to do so many horrible things to earn the respect of the grounders, and, at least to me, that was nothing to be proud of. I didn't want Xander to have to suffer through nightmares every night. I didn't want him to look at his siblings with bittersweet thoughts and feelings because he had done it all for them. I didn't want him to feel the pain that came with the life he was choosing.

I looked at Lexa, I knew she could see the thoughts and emotions playing across my face. If it were possible, she softened even further, reaching with a slight cringe of pain to wrap her arm around me in an awkward embrace.  
“I know, hodness.” she purred softly into my ear, stroking my hair as I released her hand and pulled her in tighter, “I am sorry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, i want to thank everyone who comments, especially those of you who do it with practically every chapter. I love to hear from people and sometimes i just need that little confidence boost to finish a chapter, you know? So a big Thank You :)  
> I hope you like this chapter, comments and kudos are always appreciated.


	9. Broken Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, i have no good excuse...  
> Slowed right down though, probably the cause of my writers block...
> 
> Still i hope you like it anyway. Don't forget to leave your kudos and comments. And Thanks for reading

_**Clarke Griffin  
**_ Lexa and I slept for a few restless hours. The whole time my nightmares threatened to break into my mind, only held at bay by the warm arm draped over my waist. I was almost grateful when Lincoln shook me awake.

He was armed and had his skull mask in his hand. Lexa grumbled when I sat up, opening her eyes slowly. The warrior motioned over his shoulder to where Nyko and Xander were waiting at the doors.  
“We are going to go out and see what information we can get our hands on.” He said as he straightened from his crouch. “Octavia said Skaikru was heading back to the drop ship, I want to make sure they made it there. Besides, there are preparations I want to make so that we can move on.”

I didn't very much like the thought of them going out into possible danger, but they weren't mine to command, so I nodded in understanding. Lincoln turned and went to follow the other two out the door. Before he vanished I called out to him.  
“Hey, Lincoln?” he looked back at me, an eyebrow raised in question, “Stay safe... please.” He grinned wide and I suddenly had the urge to hit him on the back of the head.  
“I always do, SkaiPrisa.” Yeah, he'd definitely benefit from a good smack...

Once the doors thudded closed behind them, I studied the vast chamber we were using as a safehouse.

The room was impressive, especially once I allowed myself a moment to look around. The walls were built out of large charcoal colored stone blocks, the mortar starting to crumble in places. Iron sconces held wooden torches that illuminated the edges of the chamber. An old frayed circular rug lay in the center of the space, dust and age making the once rich red color, faint and pale. There were old world light fixtures, brass chandeliers by the look of it, hanging from the high ceiling, but I doubted there was any electricity now.

There was an altar a few meters in front of the double doors, intricate carving decorating the pedastal and melted wax spilling over the edges from candle that were at the ends of their wicks. A large oak bookcase, stained dark, held a dizzying variety of old world texts; everything from small novels to binders full of yellowing paper. Beside that was an over-sized cabinet that looked as though it was expertly made, a keyhole in the door.

Then there was the main piece of... for lack of a better word, furniture. I recognized it immediately, having seen many like it up on the Ark. It was definitely more advanced than the escape pods we had been shown every year when our teacher rans us through evacuation drills. (Something that was beyond pointless because there weren't enough pods anyway, and we had absolutely nowhere to evacuate to...) It was scorched and battered, no doubt in my mind that it would never fly again, the doors propped up on metal poles and candles sitting on the controls.

But the best part was above eye level, painted in simple reds, whites and black. It captured my attention and had curiosity burning through me. Lexa must have noticed some change on my face or in my eyes because she gave me that almost breathless chuckle and motioned her head toward the paintings.  
“Go, I will be fine without you for a few minutes, Clarke.” she said, gently patting my hand. I gave her hand one last squeeze and a shy, grateful smile, before pushing myself shakily to my feet.

I collected a torch from the wall by the first picture and lifted it high, ignoring the ache in my muscles as I looked over the work.

It was beautiful in its simplicity, probably not done by anyone with any determinable talent, merely painted as a record of events. Different scenes flowed around the room, a story told through pictures. The first was one that we had seen all through our schooling on the Ark; it was the mushroom cloud, billowing up to cover the sky as cities burned beneath it.

The next picture showed a barren wasteland, little people crawling out of the fire, obviously sick, some deforemed. The third was of these people fighting, killing each other as black rained down on them. But the next image was of a ball of fire breaking through the dark clouds.

Moving along, I saw a woman emerging from a red pod behind her, a white glow surrounding her body. The little people were all bowing before her, worshiping the woman who had fallen from space. The story continued, showing this woman teaching the people how to live, separating them into different groups, stopping wars and even creating Night bloods, seemingly with a wave of her hand.

I looked over my shoulder at the escape pod, washed in the orange light of dancing flames. It couldn't be, I mused, comparing it to the cave painting, as though that could prove it one way or another. But I knew that it was, there weren't many ways the grounders could have gotten their hands on a used escape pod.

“Pramheda” came an almost reverent whisper from beside me. I looked over to see Lexa, a hand holding her side, but her face turned up to look at the same picture I was still standing before. “She was the first Commander, the first Natblida. She came down from the sky to guide us, to teach us how to survive, to bestow her blessings upon the worthy.”

It was a strange feeling, to see proof behind the grounders previously ridiculous sounding legends. I had foolishly put Lexa's beliefs down to stories told to explain life on the ground, no different to ancient mythology. But I had been wrong, some details may have been confused over the years, but there was merit to her talk of _Spirits_ and legends. I wanted to apologize and ask a million questions at the same time. As it was I could only keep moving my eyes between Lexa, the pod, and the painting.

Lexa had mentioned this woman before, when she was explaining that I had a _Spirit_ within me. She had said that she carried Pramheda's _Spirit_ inside her, that it was this spirit that made her Heda. For the first time I wondered the extent of Lexa's own chip. Were there things that she didn't understand one moment and then suddenly were as clear as day? Was her chip why she was such a brilliant warrior? Did she get feelings that she just couldn't explain?

Her gaze turned away from the wall and landed on me, knocking the wind right out of me when she gave me that smirk. There would always be that almost violent tug in my chest, that was something I would have to accept it seemed, but more overwhelming than that, was the comforting warmth that spread from my heart. I smiled back at her, lacing my fingers between hers.

“What's it like?” I asked, glancing back at the wall briefly, “What's it like to have her spirit inside you? Does it feel different than when you were a kid?” Lexa smiled softly, leading me to a low sofa hidden in the shadows. We sat facing each other, our hands intertwined, Lexa's thumb brushing over my wrist.  
“It was strange at first.” She started, thinking back, “I was laid down and the incision made, then there was a prickling sensation. After that, bright white light took over my vision and an all consuming peace washed through my body.”

She was speaking so tenderly, as though remembering an old friend, and a small spark of jealousy snuck up on me.  
“I was looking at a line of all the Heda's that had come before me. They each told me their names as I traveled down the line, until finally, I reached Pramheda. She told me that it was now my duty to lead and guide our people, to keep them safe, to ensure they survive. She said that the burdens of leadership were vast, but I must bear it so that they do not. She wished me luck and promised I would never be alone in my task.” Lexa paused for a moment and I waited patiently, watching as emotions flickered through her eyes. “That is when I awoke to find myself standing before my people, my regalia in place.”

She sighed but then looked up at me, nothing but love in her eyes.  
“To answer your question, it felt the same and yet oddly different at the same time. I was _more_ than I was before. There were the simple things that all people noticed; I was stronger and wiser, my hair even grew faster and stronger, my proficiency in battle improved, and I ate copious amounts for months...” she laughed at the memory and I couldn't help but smile. “But I noticed the subtler differences. I was more confident, more determined for peace. My feelings about those around me deepened, those I cared for became like family, despite Titus' objections. It was as though Pramheda's spirit took everything I was and enhanced it.”

“Wow, it sounds amazing...” I whispered, feeling my eyes prickle as I fought back tears. I was glad when Lexa continued, apparently oblivous to the thickness of my voice.  
“It can be.” She hummed, “Sometimes Pramheda will speak to me, in memories or feelings, she will send me dreams. They are like warnings or advice, it reminds me that I am never alone. It is how I feel when I think of you, like I will never truly be alone.”

I couldn't help but compare her experience with my own. In comparison, the chip that I had was aggressive and hostile. It used pain and uncomfortable sensations to tell me things, it took complete control when it felt I was incapable of being productive, and it didn't guide me so much as throw me into the deep end. Lexa's _spirit_ acted like a spirit, benevolent and helpful, it was sweet and created with the best intentions. It made sense that being Heda was the highest of honors...

“Klark, what is wrong?” Lexa asked, her fingers brushing a stray curl from my face. I forced a smile, getting ready to offer some false assurance, but the words caught in my throat when I saw her expression. Lexa was looking at me with an openness and vulnerability that she rarely allowed, I couldn't bring myself to lie to her, not while she looked at me like that.

“You make it sound like a gift,” I answered after a moment of thought. “But that isn't what it's like for me, I have never felt anything good from the _Spirit_ I carry. It... helps me, but only to keep me alive, it just feels _wrong_.”  
“I am sorry, niron.” Her brows were furrowed in worry and before I realized what I was doing, my fingers were tangling into her hairline, my thumb lightly smoothing out the lines. I was rewarded instantly, Lexa relaxing into the touch as she closed her eyes and hummed in contentment.  
“Don't be,” I said with a small shake of my head. “I guess I just never understood how you could be alright having a Spirit. I'm always worried that it will take over, that I'll hurt someone, that my thoughts and feelings aren't my own...”

I trailed off, my eyes dropping to our joined hands. My breath hitched as I fought off a sob. I had never voiced the fear before. It always felt like saying it out loud would make it much too real, make it impossible to handle. But here, Lexa looking at me as though I was the most precious thing in the world, I had to let her know. I wanted the comfort only she could provide, I wanted her to reassure me, I wanted her to tell me that I was being ridiculous.

Calloused fingers brushed against my chin, lifting my gaze back up to meet hers. She was smiling softly, a smile that was all the more beautiful for its tenderness, the way her eyes shone in the light from the candle and torches. I could get lost in those eyes, so open and expressive, such a vibrant color. My fingers twitched and I couldn't help but smile back at her, despite my thrumming heart.

“Klark,” Lexa whispered, bringing her forehead to rest against mine, her soft lips ghosting across my own. “You will always be your own person, there is no _Spirit_ stronger than yours. You simply need to remember that, and I will always remind you when you forget. You are not alone, hodnes, you will never be alone...”

 

Morning came much too quickly, at least what Lexa approximated to be morning. She was much better after a couple of meals and some sleep, but not yet in ideal fighting shape. Me on the other hand, I could walk without any pain, my ribs were feeling much better and there was no longer a hole through my right hand.

While Lexa cleaned and sharpened her sword I took mine into my left hand, twirling my wrist a few times, the weight comfortable in my palm. I cut through the air slowly, testing my body to make sure I wouldn't be wracked with sudden pain. Then I moved through my exercises, letting my body flow through the steps, my sword dancing through the air in a blur, the blade glinting off the firelight as though hungry for blood.

I was so focused on what I was doing, so lost in the movements, that I didn't notice Lexa until she caught my sword on the edge of hers. Her free hand clasped my wrist and she stepped in tight, _my_ smirk playing across her lips. I growled before I could stop myself, reflexively pushing Lexa back with all my strength.

She stumbled back a few steps but managed to catch herself and regain her balance within moments. Her smirk was still in place, her eyes glinting playfully. But my heart had shot into my throat and I shook my head hard to try and clear away the battle trance.  
“Lexa, I'm sorry,” I croaked, pinching the bridge of my nose, “I didn't expect-”  
I was cut off when she pounced and I had to roll out of the way of her blade. She laughed, twirling her wrist.  
“Don't think, Klark.” She almost purred across the space between us, “Show me what you have learned.”

One thing I loved about Lexa was that she was so deceptively simple. That is to say, not simple at all. If you didn't know her you would see just the surface of her personality, the hard and harsh demeanor, or the gentle lover. But there was so much more to her. She was seemingly terminally serious, but if she was in the right mood, she could be a mischievous and playful... brat.

I was torn on how to feel about this part of her surfacing. Ifirst of all, it was beyond annoying to be ambushed by my own girlfriend. By then again, I was glad she could find this little bit of peace with me, despite what was happening outside. So, with a sigh, I decided to join her light-hearted 'game' of dangerous sparring. (Trust Lexa to think sharp pointy objects make for good amusement)

She was a hairs bredth from vicious as she twisted through the air and I had just enough time to raise my own sword, flinching as the metal clashed, the sound grating on me in a way it never had before. Lexa pulled back and swung again, low this time, forcing my to step back quickly and twist my wrist harshly to force her blade to glance away. I saw the opening for an attack of my own, could see the way my body would move, the best place to land the blow. But I couldn't make myself take the steps.

Suddenly, I was no longer in the warm, glowing chamber with Lexa. Instead I was on the nightmarish mountain of my burning victims, an avenging angel baring down on me. My body moved on pure instinct, ducking under Lexa's next attack and spinning out of reach. I tried to blink away the vision, tried to clear my head and reassure myself that it was just Lexa...

But the fire started spreading up my back, screams filled the air and I crumpled to my knees, my sword falling from my grip. My palms pressed against my ears, trying to keep the sound out of my head. The world was spinning rapidly, the stench of burning flesh filled my nose and it was all too much. I wanted it to stop, I needed it to stop. I didn't want to kill anyone, I was trying to save my people... please, I'm sorry.

There was an unsettling rasping sound, sobbing and screams piercing through it. Like ghostly whispers echoing down a long hallway, I could hear a voice. A soft pressure, both soothing and torturous in it's icy temperature, pressed into my back. Nothing made sense. I was burning alive while at the same time a comforting presence was extinguishing the flames. My victims were screaming- no, wait... I was screaming.

The realization seemed to force a number of things to slide into place in my mind. The whisper grew in volume until I could recognize the calming tones, Lexa. As though this simple knowledge, that Lexa was with me, was enough to chase away the demons, the room starting to reappear around us.

Once my head had cleared, my breathing calmed, and the wrenching sobs had ceased, I found myself in Lexa's lap. She was on the floor, my trembling body cradled in her iron arms as she tried to coax me from my episode. With exhausting effort, I released the tension in my muscles, forcing my body to relax into her. A relieved sigh escaped her lips when she felt the change and guilt filled my chest.

Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks and soaked into her shirt.  
“I'm so sorry...”

 

 _ **Lexa  
**_ Clarke was still shaking in my arms and I wished more than anything that I could take her pain. I wished that I could bear this for her. But my golden haired princess was strong, a leader that rivaled my own potential, I could not take her pain away. It broke my heart when she whispered into my shoulder. Her apology was deep and layered, not just apologizing for her breakdown, but for everything she felt responsible for.

I hated that I had left her to face the mountain without me. I know that it was the only option for me, the best one for my people, but if I had been there.... I was used to being the cause of countless deaths, it was a burden I was used to carrying. I was not as pure of soul as Clarke, I could have made the decision to destroy the mountain for her...

But my role was to be different in her story. Fate had selected my SkaiPrisa for the path of a legend. That meant she needed to get through this obstacle, but I would hold her and offer her all my strength. It was a new role for me, one I had never been called to play, one I had never asked anyone to perform for me. And yet I found that I would do anything for the woman in my arms, be anyone she needed me to be.

Never again would I have to choose between her and my people because Clarke was my people. What was best for her and what was best for my people, would be one and the same if I spent the rest of my life making it so.

Clarke eventually cried herself into an uneasy slumber. But my mind continued to turn. I would bring Azgeda down, reclaim my coalition, create the peace that Clarke had always wanted...

 


End file.
